Year of the Wolf
by The Magnificent Kiwi
Summary: Sometimes we find that the family we were born into is not the one we were meant for. Marauders-era.
1. Prologue

**AN - **First off, hey there and thanks for checking this story out! It's an idea I've been mulling over for a while, focusing mostly on Sirius's growing estrangement and eventual separation from his family, a major turning point in Remus's lycanthropy and Lily and James's relationship, and other important events of the time. I always prefer to stay as close to canon as possible.

Please let me know your thoughts, etc. in the form of a review :). I do take everything on board and enjoy hearing what people have to say!

* * *

**Year of the Wolf**

_Prologue_

It was the fifth time James Potter had passed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters and still the same sense of eager happiness grew within his chest. The loud chatter of emotional families, the cloud of steam that drifted like a weak mist above their heads, and the _smell_ of the train and the many caged pets. It was better than Christmas, better than _Hallowe'en_.

'Hey Potter!'

He didn't recognise the voice but returned the greeting nonetheless as he played the usual game of 'pick the first years from the crowd'. They seemed to get smaller every year.

'Have you found your friends yet?' asked Mrs. Potter as she appeared at his side and began to fuss over his appearance.

'There's the Blacks,' said Mr. Potter, craning his neck above the crowd. 'No Sirius though.'

James followed his gaze, finding it hard not to scowl at the parents that made his best friend's home life hell. Walburga tended to Regulus with affection he had never seen her show her eldest son, and neither she nor her husband seemed to even register that they were one son short, let alone care.

'He's probably on the train already,' James yawned.

There was no sign of Peter either, but Remus waved in the distance, evidently unable to pull himself away from his parents for long enough to say a proper hello.

The holidays had seemed so long this year. Peter had been travelling around Europe with his mum for most of them, so it had been just James, Remus and Sirius, but a couple nasty full moons and family 'obligations' had forced their meetings to be more sporadic than any of them had hoped.

Barely a week had passed since Sirius was snoring in a makeshift bed on his bedroom floor, and he was already anxious to share a room with his three best friends again.

'Go find them!' his mum chuckled. She kissed him on the cheek and made one last futile attempt to flatten his hair. 'Take care of yourself and your friends, and try to stay out of trouble.'

'More "do" than "try",' his father added with a knowing smile.

'Don't know what you mean,' James said as he hugged his parents. 'I'm always good. Promise you'll send owls?'

'We always do, honey,' said his mum.

The buzz of anticipation rang in his ears as he clambered on board the train, dragging his trunk down the corridor. There were a lot of complaints as he pulled it over a few toes trying to find a compartment with a familiar face or two. Owls hooted, cats meowed and even the occasional toad croaked through open compartment doors as he made his way to the back of the train.

The compartments became less densely-populated as he progressed, and eventually he saw the familiar form of Sirius Black, slumped against a window seemingly asleep.

'Morning, beautiful,' he said with a grin as he stowed his trunk safely away and slung his bag onto the seat. Sirius barely grunted to acknowledge his presence, and James took this as the first sign that something was wrong.

'Well aren't you a ray of sunshine?' James commented glumly. 'Maybe I'll go sit with the Slytherins.'

'You'll do no such bloody thing.'

'Aha, it talks! C'mere, mate, I missed you.' James held out an arm for a hug, a fist-bump or even a handshake, but Sirius just looked at it darkly from beneath his hair.

There was a darkness to his eyes that had become increasingly more common over the years, and it caused a knot to twist in James's stomach. He knew exactly what had happened without his friend needing to say a word. He never was quite sure how to deal with issues regarding Sirius's family. Even Sirius did not know sometimes, and usually the move he made was the wrong one and it led them right back to square one.

'I walked out,' he said, pushing his hair out of his face. 'Wandered round London for an hour or two before I realised I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Came back and they hadn't even noticed I was gone. Call me stupid, but if your child, the supposed heir of the family, walks out, you would at least look up and think "hang on, we appear to be one short here", am I right?'

'Don't stress yourself out over them, Sirius,' James pleaded. 'They're not worth it.'

He wanted to say so much more, but there were never words to translate his feelings into. There was nothing he wanted more than to just take Sirius out of that toxic environment and place him in the loving one he had at home, but Sirius was too proud to accept help, would rather hold his head high and play the hand he was dealt rather than walk away, however unfair that hand was.

'Yeah,' Sirius said. It was a long, drawn out word that rumbled in his chest. And when he turned back to James, the gloom was gone and he had mustered a rather convincing smile. 'So what've you been up to since I last saw you?'

'Missing you,' James said in an airy voice. 'Every minute of every day.'

And he wasn't even lying.

* * *

Professor Mcgonagall flashed the boys an impatient look as they entered the hall, James staggering under the weight of Sirius on his back. It was a scene perhaps made more comical by the fact that Sirius had a considerable lead on James, and most of the other students in his year, in the height department, but when he had unexpectedly jumped aboard as they entered the hall James had taken it like a champ and carried on like a bow-legged pony carrying Horace Slughorn.

'Thanks, old chap,' Sirius said when he dismounted at the Gryffindor table, perfectly imitating the voice of the crazy knight Sir Cadogan.

'I think my vertebrae have fused together,' James complained. He arched his back dramatically, pressing a hand into his spine for greater effect. 'You need to lay off the pastries, Black.'

'Nonsense! I'm a growing boy.'

'Grow any more and you're going to grow straight out of your robes,' teased Remus.

'I maintain that it's you three who are shrinking.'

'We're not the ones who are starting to compromise the integrity of the cloak disguise.'

Sirius glared at James, but any retort was stolen as the hall fell into silence and the Sorting Hat began its annual song.

Remus won the ensuing round of "who will end up in which house?" and wore his victory with an annoying sense of smugness.

Despite their friend's distracting smarminess, James could not help but notice the ferocity with which Sirius attacked the food on his plate. It very closely mirrored the way he had scarfed down pasties and cakes on the train. Evidently his parents had found his behaviour bad enough to exclude him from a family meal or two in the days preceding the start of term, and their house elf was never any help in procuring snacks. James sighed in dismay. He wouldn't go so far as to say that his friend had brought it upon himself, but he didn't do himself any favours.

If the others noticed anything out of the ordinary, they did not say. In fact, Peter began to tease Sirius, earning him an obscene gesture.

'It takes a lot of energy to power something this godly,' said Sirius rather modestly.

Their trunks had arrived ahead of them, as always, when they reached their dormitory with it's four four-poster beds, and a cosy warmth filled the room, which smelled faintly of burning coal.

Peter was still describing a tour around Budapest that he had taken with his mother as they changed into their pyjamas. Remus nodded along politely, but James and Sirius had both tuned out before they had even reached the portrait hole.

'Everything okay?' James whispered as he edged towards where Sirius stood beside his bed.

'Yeah.'

'Mate, you've been staring at your socks for the last five minutes.'

'They're nice socks.'

James levelled his eyes at the grey-eyed boy and Sirius sighed.

'I was just thinking,' he said. And then he smiled, and for once it reached his eyes. 'About how glad I am to be back.' It wasn't entirely a lie, but James could see that the trick lay in the way he worded it. Then, he leaned in a little closer. 'Kind of worried about Remus too. Well, how he's going to handle the whole animagus thing. We're getting close, it could be weeks away. He's going to flip out.'

'Therein lies the point of keeping him in the dark until it's over,' James whispered back. 'When it's done it's done and after all the work we've put into it he's not going to have much choice other than to give it a shot, is he?'

With that, he left Sirius alone with one last wary glance and clambered into his own bed, relishing the warmth of the sheets. The lights were barely out when sleep came for him, and he dreamt of a field, four legs and an irate Moony.


	2. Bones, Bikes and Quidditch

**Year of the Wolf**

_1. Bones, Bikes and Quidditch_

Remus woke in the hospital wing with the usual dull ache in his bones, accompanied this time by a searing pain that tore through his hip and the unwelcome thought of _not again_.

'Oh, thank goodness you're awake,' Madam Pomfrey gasped when she saw him. She pushed him gently back when he tried to rise, fussing over him as she had not done in quite some time.

'How did I get here?' he asked deliriously. The pain brought a blur to the edge of his vision and there were very few coherent memories to pluck information from. There was a tightness to the skin around his right leg that he recognised as the now-familiar ache of healing tissue. It felt deep this time, perhaps down to the muscle.

'You were unconscious when I came to get you,' said Madam Pomfrey. 'Don't worry, don't worry, I got you back up here before anyone was out of bed, you weren't seen. Seems you had a rather rough night. Shattered your hip and your leg is having a little trouble healing. Not to worry though, you'll be right as rain soon enough so long as you rest.'

Remus groaned. It was not often that he injured himself so gravely and the run-up to this month's Change had been rather easy - he had not been required to take the day prior to the full moon off, which was most unusual. It seemed that his body was now determined to make up for that oversight...he would likely be here for a few days now. In O.W.L. year too. Fantastic.

'I can't move my leg,' he said. He wasn't sure if it was the pain or if something else was wrong.

'That, my dear boy, is quite intentional,' Madam Pomfrey assured him. 'It was not a clean break - it will take some time for the bone to heal, I did what I could to immobilise it to help with both the healing and the pain, but I'm afraid it's not going to last. You should rest while you have the opportunity. These next few days are not going to be pleasant.'

She had barely left his side when the doors swung open. Within moments, the new arrivals seemed to sense that something was not quite right and broke into a run (or as much of a run as Madam Pomfrey would allow in her hospital wing) until they reached his bedside.

'What happened?' James demanded, first to reach him. 'Are you okay?'

'Rough night,' Remus said.

'You look like crap,' said Sirius with a look of shock upon his face. 'No, not like that! I mean...you don't look 'normal full moon' crap, you look...'

Remus grimaced. It was perhaps a blessing that there were no nearby mirrors.

'Can't remember much,' he said. 'You know how it is.'

But they didn't, not really. The wolf would take over both body and mind, and he would cower in the dark recesses, too afraid to sneak a peek through its eyes. How could anyone _truly_ understand that?

'McGonagall said you'd be out of classes for a while,' said Peter. 'She's been telling everyone you were ill over the holidays, took on a bit too much and relapsed.'

'Everyone bought it,' said James.

'Well, one person didn't,' said Sirius. Remus didn't need to hazard a guess as to who that was.

The others helped him get comfortable, and forced him to down the foul potion Madam Pomfrey had left. It filled him with a strange warmth that prickled along the nerves in his immobilised leg. They had even smuggled up some toast from breakfast and promised to take notes from the day's classes.

They returned again at lunch, James delving into his bag to retrieve several mouth-watering items of dessert once ensuring that Madam Pomfrey was busy in her office. They all tucked into them with much gusto, Sirius sat on the other side of the bed by his head, James by his feet and Peter seeming quite content in the chair beside the bed. It was as though they did not sit in such a clinical place, but rather across the beds in their dormitory. Had they really gotten so used to being here?

Hours passed, and it soon became evident that their free afternoon was being wasted at his bedside. But no matter how he tried to point this out, he was shushed almost immediately. Eventually, they began threatening him with a silencing charm.

'You think we'd be okay sitting in the common room knowing you're up here all alone?' asked James.

Sirius smiled and nudged Remus gently with his shoulder. 'You're kind of doing your prefect duty of keeping us out of trouble.'

With incredulity that still had not left him after all this time, Remus listened to them verbally hoping that it was a one-off and next month would be easier for him. He cast all thought of it aside - even now, it still amazed him how much they cared about him and how little about his condition. Somehow, he noted, even as Madam Pomfrey's pain management measures began to wear off, it made it all a little easier to bear.

* * *

James and Peter found Sirius poring over a book in the common room that evening, and the former was sure to offer a snide comment about this. Sirius was much like him - naturally intelligent, barely needing to study to pass an exam with full marks. They were like sponges for information, though said information was not always of the academically useful variety.

'Muggle Studies?' Peter commented as he and James sank into the other two chairs at the table. 'I thought you weren't that serious about it?'

They all knew that the only reason Sirius had taken Muggle Studies was as yet another metaphorical middle finger to his family. James, of course, had taken the subject purely because his best friend had.

'Turns out, it's pretty fascinating,' Sirius said impatiently.

Without warning, James reached over and snatched the magazine he had been resting on the pages of his textbook. Sirius reached for it aggressively, but James held it out of his reach as he flicked through the pages.

'A motorcycle magazine?' he asked. There were pages upon pages of still images of motorcycles, editorials on different manufacturers, guides on the different parts of different motorcycles...there were even posters of the things, and... James laughed, eyes widening in interest at an unusually stationary pull-out picture of a half-naked woman straddling a large bike. 'Now this is my kind of literature.'

A disapproving tut from behind him caught James's attention and he turned quickly, dropping the magazine as Lily Evans shook her head and guided her friends away from the apparently offensive material.

'Fan-bloody-tastic,' James muttered, cheeks burning.

'Serves you right!' Sirius laughed.

'What are you doing with that anyway?' James asked. Though his words were directed at Sirius, his eyes followed the departing Evans until she disappeared up the steps to her dormitory. Merlin, if she didn't get prettier every year.

Peter craned his neck to see what the fuss was about as Sirius pulled the magazine back over to his side of the table, and James caught a glimpse of the pages of the book that had been hidden beneath the magazine. It was a motorcycle maintenance manual.

Sirius had shown an interest in motorbikes in particular as soon as they had covered muggle transportation in their classes. By the Christmas holidays of the previous year he had found a way to get muggle magazines delivered by owl mail (James suspected his muggle-born cousin by marriage) and had developed a full-fledged obsession with motorbikes by springtime. He had even been caught chatting to their muggle studies professor about engines between classes one day.

James, he didn't see how anything could compare to a broom, to the feel of the wind rushing through your hair and the world passing you by. Sirius had once argued that the feeling of a motorbike would probably be the same. James argued back that a motorbike couldn't fly, then Sirius had said _we're wizards, we can make anything fly_ so James suggested if he bought a motorbike and made it fly then perhaps he should give James his Nimbus 1001. Sirius had then recommended that James do something rather obscene and the topic had never been raised since.

'I, uh...decided I'm going to get one,' Sirius said.

James laughed, unable to contain the hilarity.

'You serious?'

'Why not?' Sirius scowled at him, though a smirk played on his lips. 'I can get a muggle motorcycle license when I'm seventeen. Should be a piece of cake.'

'You can apparate when you're seventeen,' Peter pointed out.

Sirius let out a frustrated sigh and held up the magazine. 'Tell me that apparition looks this good.'

'Give it up, Peter,' said James, laughing. 'He loves the things.'

'Thank you, James.'

Sirius folded the magazine and put it back into his bag along with the book, evidently realising that quiet reading time was over.

'So,' he said, lowering his voice. 'Are we going to try again tonight?'

The colour drained from Peter's face and he suddenly busied himself with studying the large tapestry on the wall above them.

'Can't tonight,' James said in a whisper. He glanced at Peter, shaking his head when he suddenly rejoined the conversation. 'Quidditch try-outs tomorrow, Reed wants the whole team there.'

He met eyes with Sirius, hoping to convey a silent suggestion.

'Bit late, isn't it?'

James shrugged.

'Reed's been busy - N.E.W.T.s. Couldn't get the whole team together before now.'

'Are you trying out for commentator again?' Peter asked.

Sirius shook his head with a grin that verged on malicious. 'You kidding? McGonagall won't have me back after last year.'

James could not suppress a laugh at the memories.

_'Beautiful save by Young! The girl has such speed, and just look at how those Quidditch robes emphasise her curves-'_

_'-second year for their new seeker, Regulus Black. Incidentally, little Regulus used to wet the bed until he was six. His mother had to cast all sorts of charms to save her sheets.'_

_'Green passes the quaffle to Potter who SCORES! Gryffindor now stand at eighty points to ten and Mr. Potter is very much single, ladies, though I doubt for much longer after today's match!'_

'They did not appreciate your subtle humour,' James said, his eyes alight. 'But that's all good, I want you to try for the team this year.'

Sirius scoffed. 'Yeah, I'm built like a seeker, me.'

Sirius stood at least a few inches above most of the other boys in their year, and his physique had a natural hint of lean muscle to it that no amount of pigging out at lunch seemed to affect. Perhaps it was the so-called aristocratic nature of his genes that ensured such a well-refined overall appearance.

'We're not looking for a seeker,' James said. 'A chaser, beater and keeper. I think you'd make a good beater.'

'He's tall enough to make a good keeper too,' Peter agreed.

Sirius seemed to ignore the latter opinion, kept his eyes fixed on James.

'Come on,' James pleaded. He wanted Sirius to fall to his side of this idea. If he joined the team, it would mean more time together - no more cancelled plans when a training session sprung out of the blue. Besides, it may help keep his mind off whatever was happing at home that had made him so prone to moments of glumness these past few weeks. 'At least try out. You don't have to accept it if you're offered the position and who knows? You might even have fun.'

* * *

Try-outs brought weather that promised fun, but not much else. A small crowd had turned out, mostly second and third-years, with a few first-years who had to be marched off the pitch. Sirius was one of the oldest there and from the look on his face he appeared to have noticed this.

'Just relax,' James told him as he led him towards the other candidates. 'Reed's a fair captain.'

Patrick Reed was a tall seventh-year Gryffindor with a look of general authority about him. He was a hell of a player, and took the game very seriously. This too, seemed to have crossed Sirius's mind, as he cast James an uneasy glance as he joined the small crowd. James gave an encouraging thumbs-up as he found the rest of the existing team and sat down to observe the upcoming trials.

'You dragged him here, didn't you?' said Mary Macdonald, suppressing laughter at the several inches at which Sirius stood above most of the other hopefuls.

'We've played together in the holidays,' James said, smirking. 'He may not look it, but he's got good upper body strength. Great balance too, never been able to knock him off his broom and believe me, I've tried.'

'I bet you have,' Mary said with a quiet laugh as Reed sorted the others into groups. 'At least we don't have to try out again.'

As it was Reed's second year as captain, he had said that he saw no reason why the remaining team needed to try out - they had proven themselves over the past year and James had consistently scored more goals per game than any other player in the school.

The three existing team members exchanged casual evaluations of the hopefuls, ranging from the kind ('Well, she may have fallen off her broom, but she still got the ball through the ring') to the disbelieving ('He has actually gotten on the broom the wrong way'). The decision for chaser did not seem to be a very difficult one: a slight third year girl zoomed effortlessly around the others, drawing large cheers from the crowd below.

There was a definite mixture of abilities where flying was concerned. Aside from the backwards-facing rider, one girl seemed completely out of control of her broom and another boy seemed petrified that he would fall off. It was all James could do to hold back laughter as Sirius outstripped them all effortlessly, yawning and looking rather bored indeed as he lounged almost carelessly atop his broom.

It turned out that James's assumptions about his friend's prowess as a beater were on the mark. He succeeded in knocking two fourth years and Reed himself off their brooms, and on his last swing managed to hit the Bludger through the smallest space between two players. Reed stared after it in awe before glancing back to Sirius and telling the other Beater hopefuls to pack up their brooms and go.

When Sirius touched down, James ran to meet him with roaring enthusiasm as cheers from the stands rang out above.

'Knew you could do it!'

'Piece of cake,' Sirius said, though he appeared to have just now started to breathe again.

Peter waved his fists from up in the stands and both boys waved back.

It did not take long for the new Keeper to be chosen, and Reed called the new Gryffindor team over for somewhat of a debriefing.

'I think we've got a good season ahead of us,' he said. 'Not to be rude Black, but you don't have the classic Beater build so for the first match at least, I think we'll have the element of surprise on our side.' Sirius grinned at this as he met James's eye. Reed might as well have called him their 'secret weapon'. 'Keep an eye on the notice board - I'll let you all know when first practise will be.'

Peter was waiting on the ground when they parted ways with the rest of the team, James slapping Sirius on the back for what must have been the hundredth time.

'You were...incredible,' Peter gushed, looking up at Sirius with a rather starstruck expression. For a brief moment, James felt the tiniest pang of jealousy.

'Eh,' said Sirius in a failed attempt to be modest. He was loving it, really. 'You should try out next year!'

Peter flushed a light shade of red. 'Don't think I'm right for Quidditch. I'm better in the stands.'

'Don't sell yourself short,' James told him encouragingly. 'Half of talent is trying.'

'And the other half is never giving up,' added Sirius.

The weather was still nice, and the sudden thought of Remus stuck in the hospital wing dampened James's spirits a little.

'Reckon the house elves would make us some ice cream?' he asked the others in a low voice. 'For Remus, I mean. He was in a lot of pain this morning and...well, ice cream can make anyone feel better.'

Smiles and nods answered the suggestion.

'I think he'd like that,' said Peter. 'I'd like that.'

The spectators had almost completely cleared away as they made their way off the pitch to rid themselves of their brooms.

'Sirius!'

They all turned at the shouted name, a trail of empathetic resentment burning through James at the sound of the familiar voice, and Sirius froze as a young black-haired boy walked briskly towards him.

'Congratulations!' Regulus said, going so far as to reach out to clap his brother on the shoulder. It was a fairly humorous act given that Sirius was much taller than him and wore a rather unimpressed, slightly frightening, expression. 'You should have told me you were trying out, I just found out at breakfast.'

Sirius was staring at his little brother as though he had sprouted an extra ear.

'Didn't think you'd care.'

James reached out to tug on Peter's arm and excuse themselves from the moment, but Sirius held out an arm to stop him.

'You fly really well,' Regulus said, seeming to choose to ignore the comment. He looked up at his older brother with an almost deliberate sense of desperation. 'Guess it runs in the family, huh?'

It was a joke, but Sirius didn't seem to take it that way. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and for a few long seconds James was afraid that he may draw his wand. Instead, Sirius shook his head and began to move again.

'Oh come on!' Regulus shouted after him, bringing him to a sudden stop again. 'Sirius, I really am happy for you!'

Sirius turned around and walked over to his brother, his face expressionless. But he seemed to have no words, and he scrutinised every inch of Regulus's face, as though looking for the joke, trying to figure out if he was taking the piss or if he had genuinely come to congratulate him.

'I know you were there when I tried out,' Regulus said quietly. 'We may not be friends, but we're brothers and that means we can still be proud of each other. Or does it not?'

Something softened on Sirius's face. For a moment, James wondered if he was the tiniest bit ashamed of himself.

'Thank you,' Sirius said with a genuine smile. 'Guess I'll see you on the pitch, huh?'

Without another word, he reached out to ruffle his brother's hair before walking away, still smiling. James looked to Peter, who seemed to have an equally dumbfounded expression on his face as they followed.

Not another word was spoken on their way to the kitchens, but James could have sworn that the ghost of Sirius's smile lingered long after the younger Black sibling was out of sight.

* * *

**AN - **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think/if I should continue/the usual :).


	3. Regulus and the Bludger

**AN** - Huge thanks to ambush99 and RiddikulusWaterbender for the reviews! I really really do appreciate them so keep 'em coming :). And to everyone who has faved/followed so far. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! I'm trying to work on keeping the word count for each chapter from getting a bit too out of control but some, like this, I just didn't want to stretch out over say two or three chapters when it worked perfectly fine as one.

* * *

**Year of the Wolf**

_2. Regulus and the Bludger_

The cheers of the crowd outside leaked into the changing rooms; the entire school had turned out for the first Quidditch match of the season. Reed had finished his pre-match pep talk and the veteran players were pushing through their pre-match routines. The new players, however, were fighting through various states of nervousness.

Sirius stood with his shirt in hand, and he stared wordlessly at the fabric for a full five minutes before James approached him.

'That goes over your head, you know,' he said.

Sirius scowled at him, though took the hint and pulled on the shirt before reaching for his gloves and arm guards. Sixteen years old (recently turned, too), and still spacing out, over a Quidditch match of all things.

'It's okay to be nervous,' James reassured him. 'I almost threw up before my first match.'

'We have to win,' Sirius said, overriding the initial instinct to deny that he was even familiar with this strange 'nervousness'. 'Seriously. If I lose my first match against Slytherin, Reg will never let me live it down.'

'Have faith in your team, Black,' said Mary, smiling beside him. 'Reed said this is the best team we've had in a few years.'

'He says that every year,' James said with a roll of his eyes and Sirius chuckled with him.

'He's never had me though, has he?' And there it was, that confidence he seemed to have misplaced. Suddenly, he felt brighter, like he could take on the world. But for today, Slytherin would be enough.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded outside and the team began to file out of the changing rooms. James was working himself up, rolling his neck and waiting for the screams that always followed him. _Cocky git,_ Sirius thought with a smile.

The cheers grew louder as both teams walked onto the pitch and the Captains begrudgingly shook hands.

'For Slytherin this year we have Keeper and Captain Goule, Chasers Beete, Noxias and Alderidge, Beaters Mulciber and Cable, and Seeker Black.' The voice of who Sirius recognised to be Eric Freeman, a fourth-year Hufflepuff, rang throughout the stadium. 'And for Gryffindor we have Keeper Lewis, Chasers MacDonald, Potter and Hawthorne, Beaters Black and Captain Reed, and Seeker Hendricks. It will be interesting to see how the match plays out with the family rivalry this year.'

'In position,' shouted Madam Hooch, and the fourteen players took to their starting positions, the new faces in the crowd standing out with the looks of sheer determination on their faces.

Sirius rolled his shoulders and rotated his wrists, swinging the bat lightly in his hands. Reed flashed him a thumbs up from the other side of the pitch and he smiled confidently. This would be a breeze.

At the sound of the whistle, all hell broke loose. Almost immediately Sirius was forced to swing to the side to avoid a Bludger, but saved the moment by wheeling around and hitting it hard towards the Slytherin end of the pitch.

'Oh, that had to hurt!' Freeman said as the crowd gave a synchronised 'ooh' of sympathetic pain. 'Needless to say, Alderidge drops the Quaffle, and Potter is there to collect. Potter to Macdonald, Goule is looking nervous - AND SHE SCORES! Ten points to Gryffindor!'

Three quarters of the gathered crowd cheered, while the green quarter cried out in disappointment.

'Macdonald and Potter have been with the team since their second year, as has Slytherin Captain Goule, giving him two extra years on the pitch. And that glorious Bludger hit came from one of the Gryffindors' new recruits, Beater Sirius Black, older brother of Slytherin Seeker Regulus, who also joined in his second year-'

'Freeman, could you please commentate on the _game_?' came Professor McGonagall's voice as cheers erupted for the Gryffindors' second goal.

'Sorry, professor. Gryffindor lead at twenty to zero after a goal from Potter!'

Sirius held out a hand for a high-five as James came speeding towards him, and he wondered if Reed was right; the team seemed to work almost seamlessly, which was more than could be said for the Slytherins and their newcomers. Their new Beater, for one, had succeeded in hitting himself in the face with his own bat.

He sent Bludger after Bludger towards the opposition as the goals piled up, showing off a little by orchestrating some near-misses on the way to the Bludger's final destination. Reed matched his enthusiasm and even managed to accidentally catch the quaffle mid-air with one Bludger, sending it back down the Gryffindor end. A technically illegal move, it seemed to have gone unseen or at least excused by Madam Hooch.

'Alderidge to Noxias, intercepted by Hawthorne. Macdonald catches the quaffle next - WOW! Now that's what I call a lucky miss, saved from Mulciber's Bludger from Black at the last second and-'

There was a howl of disappointment as Goule blocked the attempted goal. Another Bludger zoomed towards Sirius and he hit it blindly, almost thrown off his broom a second later as the other slammed into his forearm. He steadied himself in time to see it zoom off down the other end of the pitch and marvelled at his unbroken arm, making a mental note to send his cousins a big box of Honeydukes treats for the arm guards they had sent him for his birthday.

'There's movement down below, looks like Hendricks and Black have spotted the Snitch!'

Sirius looked down towards the grass below and indeed, Hendricks and Regulus were zooming after what looked at this distance to be a tiny glinting speck of light. Regulus had the better broom, but it seemed that Hendricks was the better flyer because a second later he was zooming into the air, an arm raised triumphantly above him.

'Hendricks catches the Snitch - GRYFFINDOR WIN!'

The Gryffindors in the stands erupted in a synchronised, deafening roar, their comrades in the air zooming towards the beaming Hendricks.

Sirius turned his broom to join them, and Hendricks became lost beneath grateful arms. When his own congratulatory pat had been offered, Sirius turned to take in the glorious defeat of their rivals. Goule looked like he'd been hit in the face by a Bludger (though Sirius noted that he had the kind of face that may have in fact been improved by a carefully-administered Bludger). Even the chasers sat glumly on their brooms, Regulus rising to join the others with an apologetic shrug.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Cable swing furiously at a Bludger that decided to have one last go at him. Time seemed to slow as the ball spun away from the Beater. Sirius could not be sure who was in the way of what, but the Bludger collided with Regulus with a sickening crunch. It hit his arm, pushing it back against his chest before zooming skyward and knocking him backwards off his broom. A thin streak of crimson followed him as he fell and Sirius cried out, his own broom seeming to read his thoughts as it sped towards the ground.

No sooner had his feet hit the ground, he dropped his broom and rushed towards his brother's crumpled form on the ground. He was there before Madam Hooch, before any of the ground staff or indeed any of the Slytherins.

'Regulus!' he cried.

His brother gave a pained whimper as he rolled him over, arm bent at an awkward angle and blood coating his face. And Sirius pulled him onto his knee, all caution thrown to the wind.

'Reg,' he breathed. 'Say something.'

Regulus opened his eyes as Sirius touched his cheek, if for nothing else than to let him know that he was there. His nose was obviously broken, and he seemed a little dazed and disoriented.

'Sirius...' he moaned.

'Out of my way! Out of my way!'

Madam Hooch stopped just short of the fallen seeker and took a moment to compose herself before conjuring a stretcher with a wave of her wand.

'He needs to go straight to the hospital wing,' she said as she helped Sirius lift him onto the stretcher. 'The rest of you, stay here until Professors McGonagall and Slughorn arrive.'

A strange whining had started the moment the Bludger seemed on course to hit his little brother, and it continued to grow louder as he watched him float away alongside Madam Hooch, drowning out James's voice beside him. He did not know what had caused him to react so instinctively. Perhaps it was pure base instinct, to feel so panicked when one's own flesh and blood fell limply from mid-air.

It was definitely primal instinct that caused the noise to cease and blood to boil beneath his skin when Cable touched down. James seemed to sense what was coming and tried to grab him, but he was out of reach before he could react. And there was something rather pleasurable about the crunch he felt when his fist collided with Cable's nose, and the warmth of the blood that sprayed against his skin. It felt so good that he did it again, and gripped the front of the enemy Beater's robes as they fell before both hands swung furiously.

It took three sets of arms to pull him back, and McGonagall appeared to have been shouting for some time before he registered the sound of her voice.

'-disgrace to behave in such a way! Twenty points from Gryffindor! And I assure you, if I did not assume you were acting out of some mindless animalistic sense of fraternal protectiveness, there would be a detention to back that up!' She breathed heavily, and made sure that Cable was well on his way to the hospital wing before speaking again. 'Potter, take Mr. Black to see Madam Pomfrey, the rest of you to the changing rooms.'

Sirius looked down at his hands, barely registering a dull, throbbing ache in the knuckles. His left hand was a little red, but his right was already badly bruised and covered in blood he was not entirely sure was all Cable's. He could barely move his fingers and his whole right hand had started to swell; he'd probably broken a bone somewhere.

'You idiot,' James scolded when they were back inside the castle. 'Not that pounding on Slytherins isn't a good way to release your frustrations, but you did it in front of the entire school, the entire faculty, and even Dumbledore himself.'

'That git attacked my brother!'

'It wasn't like it was intentional!'

'I'd have done the same if it was you.'

James had no response to that. Sirius knew that he would have done the same for him too, and perhaps that was where the silence came from.

* * *

Sirius's hand was still aching the next morning. Apparently it was a nasty fracture (though no nastier than the mess Cable's nose had become), and when Madam Pomfrey's usual bone-healing tricks had failed, she left him with a goblet of Skele-Gro and very little sympathy.

And people were _looking_ at him differently this morning. There were a few claps on the shoulder from older students, and a few dreamy-eyed looks from girls, and he decided that the slowly-fading bruises were kind of worth it. Most of the school saw him as a hero who had stood up for his little brother. It was only the Slytherins, members of staff, and James and Remus who saw him as an idiot.

'I saw Cable earlier,' said James. 'He's still as ugly as ever. Pass some bacon, will you Moony? Thanks.'

Sirius flexed his fingers and a short series of quiet cracks resulted from the motion. He looked up at the others, caught the way that Peter was avoiding his eye, the slight shake of Remus's head before he turned back to his cereal, and the challenging look in James's eye.

'I over-reacted,' he said with a sigh as he lowered his hand. Of course he thought no such thing, but it's what they wanted to hear. But James continued to stare at him wordlessly. 'What?'

'You need to control your temper,' James said. 'I don't care, but if you snap like that again, McGonagall will have you off the team no matter how good you are.'

He was about to respond when his fist hit the table with a little more force than he had intended and the juice in his goblet rippled, and he decided that he just wasn't in the mood for arguing. While James was often on his side, he didn't mess around when it came to Quidditch.

With vigour, he shoved a croissant into his mouth and tore it in half with his teeth, trying to ignore the pressure in his chest.

The flapping of wings and screeching of the owls preceded their entrance a moment later. Letters and packages of various sizes thudded to the table around them, and the breaking of Cable's nose seemed to go forgotten. A small box of home-made cakes was torn into by James, eliciting a magnificent grin.

'They're for all of us apparently,' he said. 'But I'm tempted to make you earn them - Merlin, these smell good.'

If there was one thing Mrs. Potter was good at, it was baking. Sometimes the others wondered just how James had stayed so skinny over the years.

A wrapped magazine with a letter from Andromeda and Ted and a photograph of a green-haired toddler waving a toy wand was delivered for Sirius, and Peter looked expectantly into the crowd, though seemed somewhat placated by the realisation that nothing had come for Remus either.

'Uh-oh,' Peter said, and all eyes were drawn to his gaze. A horribly familiar owl swooped towards them, a trembling red envelope clutched tightly in its talons.

'She wouldn't,' Sirius hissed, though his voice caught in his throat. 'What's she- What the hell have I _done_?'

The Howler dropped to the table in front of him and he considered for a moment leaving it there to explode. Had there not been so many eyes on him he probably would have. And so he tore at it, grimacing the whole while.

'SIRIUS BLACK!' it screamed in his mother's shrill voice. 'YOU NEVER TIRE OF DISGRACING THE NAME THAT WE GAVE YOU. FIRST YOU JOIN THAT QUIDDITCH TEAM TO INSULT US, AND NOW I HEAR YOUR BROTHER WAS INJURED IN YOUR FIRST MATCH. YOU JUST COULD NOT MISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO TORTURE HIM COULD YOU?'

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw snickering at the Slytherin table.

'YOU ARE A CURSE UPON THIS FAMILY YOU VINDICTIVE CHILD!'

Expecting more, he could not find it in him to feel relief when the letter burst into flame and the ashes fell to the table. The hall was silent, even the teachers looked his way. Smartly, he rose to his feet, wiping crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

'Sirius,' whispered James.

Silence followed him out of the hall, nobody seemed to dare laugh. And suddenly it was obvious where that dull mass in his chest that had been suffocating him since the end of the holidays came from. It was _them_. Even here he couldn't escape them, couldn't escape _her_.

Who the hell did she think she was? Join the team to insult her? He joined the team for himself, no-one else (okay, maybe James a little), and now she was trying to take that away from him, to make it about her. And of course she thought that he was monster enough to use that position to hurt his little brother. Because everything he did was an act of vindication towards her, even the very breath that he drew - the simple act of being there, being who he was and being alive, was all part of his apparent plan to make her life hell.

His hands were shaking, and his breakfast felt ready to leave him. He couldn't even think of Quidditch now without her voice screeching in his ear. It had been his, all his, and now...

'Sirius!'

'Go away.'

'It wasn't you,' said Regulus when he caught up and Sirius finally decided to stop.

'Well ten points to Slytherin for figuring that out,' he said sarcastically, spinning round to face Regulus. His face was still bruised but his nose at least had been fixed, and his arm was wrapped and in a sling around his neck.

'I'll tell her! I'd have told her before, but I didn't think... They must have sent an owl about my injury and she just-'

'She just assumed that's the kind of person I am.'

Regulus looked pained, as though he was completely lost for words but wanted to say something, anything to support his big brother.

'It's not fair,' he settled on. 'What she said, and it wasn't fair that she sent it in a Howler. I'm going to write to her and set things straight.'

Sirius sighed and pressed a finger and thumb into the root of his nose. Sometimes Regulus's innocence was amusing and sometimes, like right now, it was just a little sad.

'Don't bother,' he said. 'It doesn't matter and it won't make a bit of difference. She hates me, and she blames me for whatever she wants and ignores any evidence to the contrary.'

'She doesn't hate you.'

Sirius laughed at this. It wasn't innocence any more, it was sheer gullibility. He may have called Regulus thick often enough but he wasn't really stupid.

'You've seen her with me for fourteen years, Reg,' he said. 'Has she ever given you any reason to believe that she cares about me? Have either of them?'

'She just wants what's best for you.'

'You have got to be kidding me.'

The words stung like a slap to the face. On what planet did Walburga Black want what was best for him? In what universe did she even know what was best for either of her sons? Or anyone at all for that matter? Eye-deep in dark magic, worshipping the inter-bred family she was so proud to be a part of. She was as far from a good role model as one could get without signing up as a Death Eater.

'Do you remember when I was nine and she destroyed all my birthday presents just because I had disagreed with her?' he asked. 'Do you remember when I was seven and she locked me in the cupboard?'

'She didn't know there was a boggart in there!'

'She hardly let me out when she found out though, did she?'

_And do you know what shape that boggart took?_ he wanted to ask him. _Do you really want to know? Her! Okay? It was her! And when she finally let me out and dad dealt with it and I was terrified and just wanted some comfort, do you remember what she did? She told me to go to my room without supper and not make a sound. She didn't even look at me! I was seven!_

'You-you don't exactly do yourself any favours,' Regulus said in a trembling voice. It was perhaps the first time he had ever stood up to his brother in any sense of the word. Any hope of a reply was stolen from Sirius with the sheer impact of those words in that voice. He may as well have told him that he deserved everything she said and did. 'She just wants you to be like the rest of us.'

There was a horrible weight upon those words - a division of 'us' vs. 'them', and he suddenly became very aware of what side Regulus was on. It wasn't so much 'us' vs. 'them' as 'us' vs. 'you'.

'Well maybe I don't want to be like the rest of you,' Sirius said. He was surprised at how quiet his voice was. Really, he had wanted to scream the words.

'You've made that perfectly clear.' Regulus drew himself up now and looked more and more like their father, even if he did sound like Walburga. 'And you keep making it clear, to her, to them, to everyone. It hurts me too, to see you accept these horrible distortions of the truth and turn your back on your blood, but-'

'Then stop caring!' Sirius roared. 'Stop caring like her! You swallow everything they tell you without question and you're the 'better son' because of it. Be their heir, it's what you want so bloody much.'

'I want us to be a family!'

And there he was, poor naive little Regulus, too soft for his own good. Sirius wondered how much of it was his fault. How much of the brainwashing of his little brother was down to his rejection of the family values and Regulus's stupid desire to be loved and accepted. That was all Sirius had wanted too, in the beginning. But he was unwilling to compromise who he was so that someone would like him a little better. And then he had met James, who actively encouraged him not to compromise himself, accepted him for who he was and in spite of his flaws. He didn't try to change him or mould him or bully him into a different way of thinking. He owed so much to James Potter.

James, who was everything Regulus was not. James, who challenged him in every way on an almost daily basis in the best way possible. James, who...was currently peeking around the side of the doorway to the Great Hall.

'Oi, Potter!' Sirius snarled, a little more aggressively than he had intended. 'Let's go!'

James jumped, evidently having thought he had better concealed himself, then waved back into the hall before moving to join Sirius, Remus and Peter appearing a moment later.

There was nothing left in Sirius that wanted anything to do with the boy with the green tie in front of him. He didn't want to see the pity in those eyes any more, didn't need it from him.

'I don't need your help,' he told his brother with a heavy tone of finality.

'You've done nothing to earn their respect,' spat Regulus, angry now. 'Nothing to-'

'A child shouldn't have to earn their parents' love,' Sirius said sadly. And for a moment he wondered if he had said too much, not from the shock on his brother's face, but the pain etched upon his best friend's.


	4. Scarlet and Gold

**AN** - First off, a huge thank you to _crazylame1_ and _Ethylmethylamine_ for the reviews - they really made my week :). I'm trying to keep the pacing of this steady, without it getting too stale with too many filler parts, and the 'action' so to speak picks up quite steadily from here. This chapter was a rather fun one to write!

If you like what you read, please leave a review and let me know :). I like to know what's working and what's not, what you want more of and what I should tone down. It really does help to get feedback and I truly appreciate all that has been left so far!

* * *

**Year of the Wolf**

_3. Scarlet and Gold_

Mr. and Mrs. Potter had many things, being both from rich pure blood families, but the only thing they had ever truly wanted was a child. They had planned the achievement of this wondrous dream not long after marriage, but careers managed to get in the way and the idea was pushed to the back of their minds. But it never truly went away. It was, after all, something they both wanted with all of their hearts.

As the years went by, they found their careers less and less fulfilling with this ache inside them, this hole in their lives and in their hearts. But years _had_ passed, and neither of them were getting any younger, and they found that they just could not wait any longer.

The first few months were hopeful, and friends would comment that they had never seemed happier or more _alive_. The next few were a little tougher, but they got by and their friends still smiled, if only politely. After a year, Mrs. Potter began to hide her tears every time she bled, every time she was reminded that she was not carrying the child of the man she loved. They waited it out a few more months before acknowledging that something was wrong, that it should be happening, why wasn't it happening?

Mr. Potter had held her hand as they sat for hours in St. Mungo's, waiting to hear the news they both knew was coming. And when it came, it burned, not like the cauterizing lick of a flame, but like the searing sting of ice. They had left it too late. There were other reasons, but the bottom line was that if they had not waited so long, they may not have been sitting there wondering why they had not started trying the day they were married. It would be "difficult", they had said, and had the Potters considered adoption?

It was years before they considered anything, and by then they had all but accepted that they were just not meant to be parents.

And then he came. He came as a bona-fide miracle into their life, and for nine months Mrs. Potter wore the biggest smile on her face as she wore the pregnancy with a motherly glow that suited her so well.

James, they called him. And from the moment he was born he was showered with love and affection. He was the child they never thought they would have, and yet there he was, and they loved him so much that nothing they did ever seemed enough. Their friends thought that they were mad when they eschewed the usual "rich pure blood" tradition of hiring a tutor for their son and taught him in his pre-Hogwarts days themselves. They laughed when they announced that there would be no house elf, that they wanted to cook and clean and do everything for this little miracle themselves.

James was a very outgoing and friendly child. He would talk the ear off anyone who visited, and got on well with the other children he mixed with, but there were never really any friendships that stuck. When his Hogwarts letter arrived he was positively ecstatic and showed a sudden interest in their old school memorabilia.

Now James was a pureblood child, we mustn't forget this, and he had been pampered from birth. His parents had raised him to be good and honourable, and they had succeeded, but of course you can't go eleven years treating your child like a prince without some negative attributes springing from the experience. He was arrogant and just a little bit conceited, but this was often lost amidst the confidence that simply radiated from him.

And when he met that boy, that haughty-looking black-haired boy with the grey eyes and mischievous smile, something happened in the very fabric of his soul. This boy wasn't offended or overwhelmed by him, seemed actually to drink in his entire being and bounce it back at him with a slightly darker edge.

An entire family in Slytherin? He wasn't having that. He knew Slytherin, knew Gryffindor, and he knew which house this boy belonged in. He was a Black, but he was not like the Blacks he had heard of. This boy was not callous, and had as much disdain for the Dark Arts as James himself had. There was a fire inside of him and it burned hot, not cold, and it burned bright. It burned, as it turned out, scarlet and gold.

In no time at all, these two boys were the closest of friends. They were closer that that, even. They were brothers, twins...they just happened to have been born into different families. And boy were their families different.

Sirius always did have thicker skin than him, James noted, sitting by the fire of the Gryffindor common room in his fifth year. While James was protected from hurt and sadness by his parents, Sirius's exposed him to it on an almost daily basis. It was impossible for most to tell, but beneath the devil may care attitude, there was a lot of internalised trauma.

In the beginning, it was funny. They would joke about stiff old Walburga and Orion and their archaic views, and some of their more reckless plots were based around things that would annoy them, that would rub in the fact that Sirius's heart was not as Black as theirs. But soon, as the toll their parenting took on their son became more and more visible, James found the whole thing less and less amusing.

He could still remember the first time Sirius visited his house, and the way he had looked at his parents, the Potters, like they were practising some kind of foreign magic. James's mum had been nervous about having a Black staying, had obviously only accepted her son's friendship with the Black heir because James cared very much about him and if it made James happy then it made her happy. And Sirius was _weird_ with her, calling her "ma'am" and his dad "sir" and sitting stiffly at the dinner table. He had only relaxed when James got sick of it, filled his mouth with mashed potatoes and punched his cheeks. Sirius was so shocked to see such behaviour and the Potters' furious yet not incensed reaction that it seemed to jolt him right out of his silly mood.

Mrs. Potter warmed to him soon after that, and showed him the same affection she showed her own son, perhaps realising that their guest was not really a Black at all, he was just Sirius.

'Do you know what Sirius said, the first time he stayed at my house?'

Remus looked up from his essay and hummed to show that he was listening. The question had come out of nowhere; James had been lost so deeply in thought for so long that Remus had apparently tuned him out.

'He looked at me and he asked in this horrible quiet voice "Why does your mum do that?"'

'What did she do?'

James looked at him, unsure if he wanted to continue. This was really Sirius's story, and he wasn't so sure that he'd feel all that comfortable with him telling anyone. But this was Remus - they didn't call him their best friend for nothing.

'She tucked him in,' James said lightly. 'She just pulled the covers up to his chin and kissed him on the forehead.'

He had Remus's full attention now - the quill was down and the parchment had begun to curl.

'He'd never been tucked in before?'

James shrugged.

'Probably not. But he was just so confused over why mum was hugging me and smiling at me. He thought it was just something parents did on the platform, before they sent their kids off to school.'

The silence between them now was heavy and uncomfortable. James didn't even know what point he was trying to get at, he only recalled what he had caught of Sirius's argument with his brother and the fact that it was now the end of that day and he hadn't seen Sirius since he had slunk up to their dormitory soon after they had arrived back from dinner.

'I don't understand why any parent would not do that,' Remus said.

'Some pureblood families are just like that,' James said, finally moving in an attempt to alleviate the cramp in his arm. 'Dark Arts, you see. They're all about the dark end of the spectrum; love and affection are signs of weakness, they're not good.'

James couldn't imagine never being able to hug his parents, and he could tell by the look in Remus's eye that he felt the same way.

'He's dealt with it for sixteen years,' Remus said, seeming to understand James's concern. 'He'll be okay. He just gets in these moods from time to time, you know that.'

'I don't know,' said James, sighing. And he looked up at the ceiling, wondering if Sirius would be asleep or if he wanted to go raise some hell. 'Something's different this time.'

* * *

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had walked to class alone, and it felt weird. He had only been gone ten minutes at the most, to retrieve his Potions book from the dormitory, yet when he had returned to lunch the others were nowhere to be seen.

All the way to the Dungeons, he kept an eye out for his friends amongst the ever-thinning crowd, but no such luck. He did meet eyes with Lily Evans as she spoke to another student, but she looked away just as quickly.

It wasn't until he was closing in on the classroom that a voice called his name. He looked up and a hand moved towards his wand, because it was not a friendly voice. In fact, given the utterance of his surname, he had half-expected his brother to be the subject of the call.

'Where's your boyfriend, Black?' Snape snickered with a look of delight upon his face. Of course he would be brave, flanked by two other fifth-year Slytherin boys and a sixth-year he recognised as his cousin-in-law Evan Rosier.

'Well, well,' said Sirius, returning the smile. 'If it isn't Snivellus and the gargoyles.'

Avery seemed to dislike this description of himself, but there wasn't a single person in their year who would not have agreed with it (though maybe not to his face).

'Surprised you're still so tough without your friends,' said Mulciber. 'Wonder how long that's going to last.'

They all chuckled horribly, but Sirius did not back down. He was just in the mood for some Slytherin-baiting and it didn't matter if he was outnumbered; if anything it meant that he would be able to get away with more in the name of self-defence.

'If you have to draw your strength from the people you're with, it's not really strength at all, is it?' he laughed. This did not go down well.

'Your mother was right, you know,' said Rosier. 'I'm surprised Orion and Walburga haven't kicked you out yet. Aunt Druella said you'd have been out on the streets if you were hers.'

'Like her daughter, huh?' Sirius shot back. He could feel the anger rising inside of him but he embraced it gleefully. 'Heard she had a baby, you know. They seem to be doing pretty well without the rest of the family - I'm sure I'd have done just fine too.'

He watched as the words hit Rosier and delighted in his discomfort. He seemed to have nothing more to say, and the other Slytherins looked at one another uneasily. Did they even know about Andromeda's disowning?

Rosier deserved the Blacks. He was far too proud to be related to them. Then again, his family was hardly any better - from what Sirius had discovered, his father was one of the first Death Eaters. It didn't take a genius to figure out which direction his life was heading.

'I don't think the blood traitor has a right to speak to us like that,' said Mulciber cracking his knuckles. He was tall (though not quite as tall as Sirius) and gangly and just a little greasy; Sirius could not have felt less threatened if he had tried.

'Oh, you're thinking! Careful, gents, might want to step back-'

'You're so pathetic, Black,' spat Snape. He stood at the front of his group and looked surprisingly confident. 'You are born into a family as honourable as the Blacks and you just spit in their face and trample all over the name. If it's not bad enough that you associate with mudbloods and blood traitors. No wonder your parents are ashamed of you.'

Sirius jerked his arm so quickly that it genuinely threw him when another wrapped through it, halting the movement of his wand.

'Sirius, there you are!' said Marlene McKinnon, her voice far too sickly and sweet. 'We're going to be late, come on.'

Mary Mcdonald was with her, grabbing his other arm, and together they physically pulled him away from the gang of Slytherins, who laughed and called after him.

'McKinnon and the mudblood to the rescue!'

He tried to turn, but the girls were surprisingly strong (for a moment he thought to himself that he actually would not mind being rescued by two beautiful strong women and perhaps that was where his own strength failed).

'What did you do that for?' he snapped when they released his arms, the Slytherins now far behind them.

'I could ask you the same thing,' said Marlene, her voice back to normal. 'You're an idiot, Sirius. There were four of them and only one of you. Don't give me that look! Avery and Mulciber alone are nasty pieces of work.'

'I can handle myself.'

'That may be so,' said Mary. 'But they'd have put you in the hospital wing for Merlin knows how long and Reed would have killed me if I'd let that happen. He's quite scary when he gets going, you know.'

'They called you a mudblood!' he pointed out, trying to win some support.

'How very gallant of you, but I'm used to it,' Mary said, though she grimaced.

'You could at least have let me hex them.'

Mary stopped, yanking on his arm.

'And how do you think I would have felt, knowing you'd got hurt because of me?'

Sirius didn't know what to say to that. James had said once or twice that he was rather blinded when it came to revenge at times. And perhaps he was.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, and the smile returned to Mary's face. She rather did, he noticed, suit that smile. She was perhaps not as typically attractive as Marlene; her mousy brown hair was not quite as lustrous as Marlene's blonde, and her blue eyes were ever so slightly duller than her friend's. But she was a pretty girl, and she was just as strong and stubborn as Sirius himself.

They pushed him into the dungeon classroom, evidently not willing to take the chance on him trying to run back to the Slytherins.

James, Remus and Peter wandered in only minutes after Snape, and perhaps one before Slughorn himself.

'Where were you?' he demanded when they joined him at their usual bench.

'Forgot I ran out of ink this morning,' James said, shaking a pristine bottle that he produced from his bag. The ink inside it sloshed about. 'Thought we'd run into you, but you must have went a different way.' Then he studied Sirius's face. 'What happened to you?'

'Nothing. Why?'

'I don't know,' said James uncertainly, and he turned to Remus for help. Remus just laughed.

'Don't look at me, James,' he said. 'You're the one that understands him, remember.'

Nervous, Sirius ran a hand over his face, wondering if one of the Slytherins had hexed him quietly. Didn't they work on non-verbal spells in sixth year? He certainly wouldn't have put it past Rosier. However, he felt nothing out of the ordinary, and chalked it down to James just being strange.

* * *

Slughorn started the lesson off with theory, and James slowly scratched words onto the parchment before him. Potions was perhaps the subject that he was least competent in, but that simply meant that he occasionally had difficulty understanding something as opposed to growing bored with how easy everything was.

He saw Remus look baffled at the pages of his book a time or two and flip through the chapter exasperatedly before Sirius looked up and began to explain the theories to him. Potions was always a strange class, because it was the only one that Remus outright struggled in, even with copious amounts of review. He'd still scrape an "E" at least, but it was always strange seeing him completely perplexed.

'Ten more minutes and then we'll get our cauldrons out,' announced Slughorn happily.

Sirius finished first, setting his quill down absently. His mind seemed to have been somewhere else since the lesson had begun, and when he finally had nothing distracting him, he began to stare at Snape a few benches away.

James wanted to hiss 'don't even think about it' across the table at him, because he could see in his eyes that something had happened and he was now very likely thinking of what to do about it. But he decided against it, because Sirius would not be so stupid as to act when the class was silent and Slughorn was in such a good mood; he would wait until they began their potion-making and James was more than happy to let, even assist, him at that point.

He turned to Snape, who had also apparently finished, and was now resting his head on his hand, staring at Lily Evans across the table. And perhaps that was why he didn't react when he heard a whisper across the table from himself. Something burned in his chest and in that moment he wanted to do something rather nasty to Snivellus himself.

But nothing happened. Sirius was apparently only muttering under his breath, despite having the biggest grin on his face.

A full two minutes passed before there was a commotion behind him and Sirius burst into hysterical laughter, followed by the rest of the class (even the Slytherins). Snape still had his hand pressed against his face, but he seemed unable to detach one from the other. He struggled on his stool, flapping his arms about like a frantic chicken. It was the funniest thing James had ever seen and he too started to laugh as Lily leapt to her feet to try to help her best friend.

'What is going on?' demanded Slughorn. He lumbered from behind his desk over to Snape, but at this point the tears that were spilling from James's eyes were almost blinding him. He tried to catch his breath and turn away, but the moment he locked eyes with Sirius it started again and his chest tightened until he couldn't breathe. He wanted to reach across the table to high-five his friend, but he was worried that if he unwrapped his arm from around himself his insides might just spill out.

He looked away again in time to see Slughorn remove the charm and turn furiously to their table.

'Which one of you was it?' he demanded. He had turned a glorious shade of red, which only made him look like a giant tomato with a moustache.

Still laughing, and a rather impressive shade of red himself, Sirius raised a hand, apparently unable to speak. He looked so proud of himself, and James was rather proud of him too.

'Mr. Black, did you cast a sticking charm on Mr. Snape?'

'Well, it wasn't a _permanent_ sticking charm,' he said, barely able to string the sentence together.

'Missed opportunity there, mate,' said James, and they roared with laughter again, daring to strike a high-five. Marlene McKinnon had her head in her arms but her shoulders shook, Mary Macdonald bit on her quill with a grin, and the other Gryffindor girls giggled freely. Except for Lily Evans, who looked as though she might murder them both then and there.

'ENOUGH!' roared Slughorn and they all fell silent. 'Detention, Mr. Black. And five points from Gryffindor for that comment, Mr. Potter. You are fifth years, when are you going to learn that this sort of behaviour is unacceptable?'

James sighed but did not protest the docking of points. Slughorn was not an unkind teacher, far from it actually, he just happened to be unlucky enough to play host to a lesson Gryffindor shared with Slytherin and had suffered through five years of intense house rivalry.

He looked up at Sirius to see that the smirk had not fallen from his face. He seemed rather proud to have earned his detention and from that gleam in his eye, James could see that he was angling for another. When Slughorn told the class to pack away their parchment and prepare to brew, he moved over to Sirius's side of the bench.

'Don't do it,' he whispered.

'Don't know what you're talking about, James.'

James pushed him, though not hard enough to draw attention.

'I mean it!' he hissed, and Sirius glared at him. 'Don't push him.'

'Oh, what's he going to do?' Sirius sneered, squaring up to James. 'Give me another detention? Take some more points? Trust me, it'll be worth it.'

The glint in his eye was rather manic, and James could tell that he was riled up. He didn't know what happened and in that moment, quite frankly, he didn't care. Ordinarily he would have been on his side, plotting their next move and how to really _earn_ that extra detention. But Sirius was reckless when he was angry, and James didn't want to feed into whatever had got him in such a state. However professional a troublemaker he was, he was too good a friend for that.

_Where on Earth is this new responsible streak coming from?_

'For the love of-' James's hand shot to his hair and he began to ruffle it frantically. 'Do it for me. Or rather don't do it for me.'

Sirius sighed, but relented. Very rarely did James ask him directly for something, because he would always do whatever it was (and the same vice versa). But he felt that the situation called for it.

'Thank you,' he said, moving back to his side of the bench. 'And when we get out of here you can tell me what he did and we can plan this thing properly.'

Sirius did not smile at this, which James found most unusual. But at that moment Peter pleaded for help and so his attention was diverted, and remained so for the rest of the lesson.

It was a fairly dull lesson, for all that had happened, and Evans refused to look at him as they approached Slughorn's desk together to hand in their samples. While he never professed to understand girls very well, Evans was an enigma. _It's because he's her friend,_ he told himself. Not that he understood why she was friends with Snivellus of all people.

She pulled Snape out of the classroom long before they reached the door, and when they did Peter began to gush over Sirius's antics. James could not help but feel just a little left out. While he was used to sharing attention with Sirius, he very rarely found that it was showered on his best friend over him.

'You seriously need to be careful,' he warned, unsure if it was genuine concern or jealousy that encouraged the words.

'We're not on this again, are we?' Sirius groaned. 'Seriously, James, what's gotten into you? Any other day and you'd be plotting round two for me.'

_But it's different this time,_ he wanted to say._ I'm not encouraging you when you look like you're hanging on a very rusty hinge._

'I'm just saying. What'd he do to get you like this anyway?'

'Nothing.'

'I don't think that's true.'

'Why are you so bothered anyway?'

James felt at a loss. He knew these moods, knew that there was no getting through to him when he was like this. So why then did he feel so compelled to try?

'You've been acting weird since the start of term,' he said, broaching what he knew was a rather dangerous subject. 'Did something happen?'

'I'm not sure that's any of your business.'

'You're my best friend, Sirius, how about I make it my business?'

Sirius stopped so suddenly that Peter walked straight into him and Remus almost tripped over his own robes. He was glowering at James now, every hint of friendliness gone from his expression. He looked _pissed_.

'Never could keep to yourself, could you?' he asked scathingly. 'Like you nosing at my conversation with Regulus yesterday. That had nothing to do with you and you couldn't help-'

'Well sorry for caring about you, mate-'

'Maybe I don't want you to care!' Sirius roared. It was uncanny how much the family resemblance shone in his moments of anger. 'I can take care of myself, Potter. So you know what? You can just piss right off.'

'Sirius!' Remus called, but with a swish of his robes he was gone.


	5. Snape and the Wolf

**AN** - Long chapter alert. Didn't make sense to split this one up. Huge huge thanks to _Kazo Sakamari_ and _TimeEnough_ for the reviews - I really really appreciate it. Let me know what you think of the latest chapter, and enjoy!

* * *

**Year of the Wolf**

_4. Snape and the Wolf_

'James, I-'

James looked up from his homework. There was not a single mark on the parchment before Sirius, and the tip of his quill remained as dry as the moment it had been pulled from his bag.

'You're not stuck?' he asked in astonishment. 'Aren't you supposed to be some kind of genius?'

He saw the twitch in the corner of his lips betray the otherwise stoic expression. You see, these boys had certain weaknesses when it came to one another. While Sirius could stare down any random student as they delivered a full stand-up routine without so much as a twinkle of amusement in his eye, it took only one barely funny comment from James to crack through whatever shields he had thrown up.

'Would you stop being a smart-arse for five minutes? I'm trying to apologise here.'

James made a fake surprised motion, pretending to almost fall off his chair. It wasn't really _that_ funny, but a full smile cracked on Sirius's face and laughter even fell from his lips.

'You're impossible, you know that?' he chastised. Then, his expression hardened a little as he caught himself. 'Look, I really do want to apologise. For yelling at you earlier. I was just angry and lashed out... In short, I was an idiot, and I'm sorry.'

James smiled, because he really didn't mind. They argued often, it was just par for the course. Within a half hour they'd be best friends again and laugh about their own stupidity.

'As much as I would love to explore the leverage I have here...I forgive you,' he said.

'Thank you.'

But a question that had been pacing in the back of his mind suddenly rushed to the fore and rolled straight onto his tongue. If there were any occasion on which Sirius would not mind being asked, it was right now, when he was feeling a little sheepish and perhaps felt like he owed his friend.

'What happened? I mean, in general, not just today. And don't say "nothing", because I know nothing when I see it, and this is something.'

Sirius sighed and leaned back in his chair. For the first time that school year, he actually seemed genuinely relaxed.

'I don't know,' he said with a slight frown. 'Just family stuff. Narcissa is engaged now - oh, Lucius Malfoy, by the way...so proud to be calling him my cousin soon - so my parents got all the immediate family together for a celebratory dinner. Bella and her idiot of a husband were there too. And you know what dear old Bellatrix is like. Started shooting her mouth off...'

James didn't know what to say, chose to remain quiet. But he saw the hand that rested on the blank parchment clench, saw the knuckles turn white and he looked up. There was a deadened look in the grey eyes, and they seemed to stare right through the table. It was as though he had fallen into a trance.

'I don't know how much more I can take,' Sirius said, so quietly that James had to strain his ears to pick up the words.

_Then don't take it!_ James wanted to say. _Come live with me. Mum and dad would love to have you. You can have the room next to mine and we can play Quidditch all summer. We can wake up early on Christmas Day and gorge ourselves on mince pies. And you'd never have to deal with their crap again._

But the words never found their way to him. Moments later, the hand unclenched and the eyes were bright again. And James began to wonder, which face was the mask?

Before either boy could say another word, someone stumbled noisily through the portrait hole. For a moment, James was a little annoyed at the interruption.

'Mary!' shouted a voice from outside. 'Come on, you have to tell-'

But the portrait swung back and sealed the entrance. And all eyes were on Mary Macdonald, who had frozen mere feet from the portrait hole. It was clear almost immediately that something was wrong. Her face was a troubling shade of pale, eyes wide and alert. Even her stance was defensive, arms wrapped around herself, though not tightly enough to hide the tremor in her hands.

Lily and Marlene were at her side in seconds, and James did not realise that he too had risen to his feet until he saw that Sirius had done the same. As soon as Mary's eyes found Lily's, as soon as her friends were there, she burst into tears.

James had never considered Mary Macdonald a "crier". He had seen her take a Bludger to the stomach and crack several ribs before gritting her teeth and finishing the match, had seen her break up with her boyfriend just last month and hold her head high. She was a tough girl in every sense of the word, and was very much like Sirius in that she never seemed to feel comfortable with people seeing her as anything other than happy or at the very least indifferent. So the tears frightened him. It was like watching something unnatural, like Filch letting someone off scot-free or Peter achieving an "Outstanding" in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Sirius was there before he could even think about moving, and Mary grabbed his arm tightly before releasing quickly, as though the movement had been completely involuntary, and sobbing even harder. At this point, both Lily and Marlene were well aware that all eyes were on their friend, so they guided her carefully up the stairs that led to their dormitory.

The silence that was left in their wake was filled only with the low hum of conversation, and the flight of theory.

* * *

Word got out that something had happened to Mary Macdonald. It was discussed wherever she was not, and James wondered if this was because they were afraid of Mary or afraid of the glares from the Gryffindor boys whenever it looked like the subject was going to be broached in front of her.

Despite the lack of insight into the actual event, the one thing everyone seemed to be in agreement over was that this was a Slytherin job.

It was the day after whatever had transpired, and James walked alone through the castle, both disgusted and annoyed at the fact that the Slytherins all seemed to be in a rather good mood. Was it just because the rest of the school had slipped into a darker state of emotion, or were they really _happy_ that something had happened to a Gryffindor? A _muggle-born_ Gryffindor.

He saw Sirius and Remus standing with a sixth-year Gryffindor boy and several Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students in the courtyard. Sirius wore a dangerous expression, even the usually-zen Remus looked ready to murder someone.

'What's happening?' he asked as he approached, and one of the Ravenclaw boys jumped nervously before he realised who it was.

'Think we've finally found out what happened to Mary,' said Sirius. His voice was heavy and dark. 'Wilson, want to recap?'

A seventh-year Hufflepuff boy looked up at James.

'I was just walking alone last night, when I heard a commotion,' he said gravely. 'Heard someone scream, so obviously I ran straight to the source of the noise. Saw her and...Mulciber and Avery. Stunned them both, they hadn't seen me coming. Obviously, because that creep Mulciber was halfway through the incantation for the Imperius Curse.'

It was a sticky, bubbling, caustic sensation that rose within James's chest. It clung to every bone, oozed into every organ. He knew that Avery and Mulciber were no good, knew that they were on track to become Death Eaters, but he never thought...

'I tried to get her to go straight to McGonagall, or even Sprout, but she wouldn't. I think she was too scared, and even if she did they hadn't actually used the curse so they'd still be here and would probably be angling for revenge. At least...that's what she thought.'

'So we were just saying,' said Sirius. 'We think it's unfair that Mulciber's going to get away with this. Doesn't sit right with us, you know?'

The others nodded and grunted in agreement.

'Someone needs to teach them that they can't get away with stuff like this,' said a fourth year Ravenclaw boy.

James looked to Remus, as if daring him to challenge the group consensus. But he said nothing, even nodded resolutely. The beast within James's chest, the one that had sprung from the rage, was rather proud of his friend in that moment. There was nothing quite like righteous anger. If it wasn't bad enough that they had attacked a muggle-born, or even tried to use that curse on _anyone_, Mary was his friend and he didn't just stand by and let his friends be hurt.

'So,' he said, his voice trembling from the power of the force that drove it. 'What's the plan?'

* * *

Over the next couple of days, there was a more excited buzz on the air. Nobody knew quite how Mulciber and Avery had ended up in the hospital wing, but they were quick to figure out why and you'd be hard pressed to find someone who would condemn those responsible.

The teachers, of course, were stumped. There was no evidence at all, and nobody willing to talk. James had smirked proudly, wondering exactly what they would have done if they ever found out that it was such a large inter-house effort. After all, they were always telling them that they needed to work together and not let the colours of their uniform divide them. And there had to be students who knew or suspected, but nobody said a word. It seemed to be a unanimous school-wide opinion that the slimy gits deserved what they got.

And it was _so_ worth it to see the Slytherins travel in packs, fearful of reprisals.

Even so, Sirius found it difficult to embrace the pride that the others had. He was glad that they got what was coming to them, of course, but it never should have gotten to that point in the first place.

He may not have actively rebelled against his family until he met James Potter, but Sirius Black had known for some time that there was something not quite right with their beliefs. For years, he thought that he was the strange one, and his parents actively encouraged this belief. So he played along, because what if he _was_ stupid and what if they were telling the truth and the world really was that way and he was just caught up in some stupid hopeful fairytale?

But he wasn't. And he was so angry when he realised that, angry that his parents had tried to brainwash him into hating people just for the blood that ran through their veins, and to believe that the Dark Arts were an honourable and misunderstood avenue of magic. The more half-bloods and muggle-borns he got to know, the angrier he became. Because he liked these people, and the fact that there was an entire movement out there dedicated to stripping them of rights and even physically hurting them, just disgusted him. It was like werewolves - it was nothing they could help and it sure as hell didn't define who they were, and yet they were still ostracised because of a whole group of people thinking that they were better than others.

'Oh, good work, Mr. Black!' Slughorn commented, inspecting the beakers and flasks he had been cleaning. 'I think that's enough for tonight, thank you very much for your help.'

He thought for a moment about pointing out that he didn't really have much choice in the matter, given that this was a detention, but decided against it. It was a full moon night and James wanted to take advantage of the empty dormitory to continue their animagus studies. So he left quickly and quietly, his mind far from transfiguration.

What time was it anyway? It was dark outside, but only just, and he realised that he had probably lost the opportunity to wish Remus good luck for the night ahead. He felt rather sorry that he had to share the hospital wing with Avery and Mulciber, especially given that he was partly responsible for their being there.

There was someone in the darkness ahead, but he didn't pay much attention to them at first. It wasn't until he got close enough to see the unusual way that the moonlight reflected off the person's hair that he realised it was Severus Snape...alone.

'Detention again?' Snape sneered, eyes still fixed on the grounds outside. 'Your life is becoming so predictable, Black.'

Sirius smirked, just looking for a reason to hex him all the way back to the dungeons.

'Haven't you heard, Snivellus? It's very risky for Slytherins to be wandering alone these days. Didn't you hear what happened to those friends of yours?'

'You mean what you did to them?' Snape turned from the window, his black eyes unusually dark in the low light. 'You may have gotten away with it for now, but sooner or later your luck will run out.'

'Are you threatening me?'

Sirius thumbed the wand in his pocket. He could attack now; Snape's reflexes were good but he could probably get off a jinx or two before he could reach his wand.

Snape just laughed bitterly.

'You and Potter, you get away with everything,' he said. 'They try one little prank and you-'

'One little prank?' Sirius was talking through his teeth now, the pressure in his chest building again. 'You call what they tried to do to her a prank, do you?'

Snape said nothing, just stared him down. What was he doing out here anyway? Had he seen Sirius head to detention and assume he was up to something? So many nights beneath the invisibility cloak they had seen him sneaking about, so sure that they were doing something illegal. Ever since their first term he had been trying to find ways of getting them into trouble - at least Sirius and the others openly declared warfare rather than sneaking about like a greasy little rat.

'I know you've been sneaking out with Potter and Pettigrew,' Snape said at last. 'You're up to something, and I'm going to find out what it is.'

'You couldn't find food at a feast.'

Snape didn't appreciate this much, because the neutral expression on his face turned into a scowl.

'You think I haven't realised that Lupin disappears? And don't say he's ill, he wasn't in the hospital wing last time, I checked.'

Anger surged. The snivelling idiot had actually snooped after him. And he seemed to have realised that he had touched a nerve because he smirked and turned back to the window.

'Sometimes it's bad enough that he has to go to St. Mungo's,' Sirius explained rather convincingly. 'That's pretty low, you know, ripping on someone because of their health. It could be you, then you wouldn't be laughing.'

Because Snape didn't care about anything outside of the Dark Arts, with the very obvious exception of Lily Evans.

And maybe that was why Sirius hated him so much. This greasy little creep would have fit right in with his family. He looked up to the things that had driven a wedge between Sirius and his parents, the things that had seen his cousin and her husband join the Death Eaters, had seen Andromeda burned off the family tree just for loving someone.

Snape's eyes widened. Sirius stepped forward to look out of the window and his lungs contracted in fear. There was Madam Pomfrey, supporting Remus, who seemed barely able to walk. They moved past the suddenly still branches of the Whomping Willow and out of sight.

'I'll find out what you're up to,' Snape said. 'I'll find out where he's going and why. I'll get you all expelled. You, Potter, and the half-blood.'

Perhaps it was the tone of derision on the word "half-blood", but something inside of Sirius snapped. Snape was always trying to get them into trouble. He was worse than Filch; they could certainly attribute more loss of house points to Snape than to the caretaker. And he saw then the kind of son his parents would have loved to have, saw everything he had ever done to hurt James, or Remus, or Peter. He saw the laughter that had followed the news of Mary's attack, recalled the excuses he had made for his friends. He saw the Death Eater he would become, saw the countless people that would be hurt at his hands, people like Mary...people like Remus.

He almost laughed as the thought came to him. Because really, it _could_ be him. He just didn't realise that. He needed a good scare, one that would have him flinching at the very sight of them. Why had he not thought of this before? It was genius.

Sirius leaned in, close enough to smell the stale scent of the unclean hair.

'If you're really that curious,' he said as they watched Madam Pomfrey exit and make her way back towards the castle alone. 'If you really want to know, why don't you just go down there?'

He was too much of a coward to even leave the castle after curfew, let along take on the Whomping Willow, but there was something in the suggestion that brought delight to the older boy. If he went down there, he'd know never to mess with them again, certainly to leave Remus alone.

'All you need to do is pick up a long stick and press a knot in the bark of the tree and you can get past.'

He could see him pissing his pants already, and it was hilarious.

Snape remained unmoving and Sirius laughed as he left him, shaking his head. Who was he kidding? Snape was a coward, he'd never risk going anywhere near that tree after what happened to Davey Gudgeon. But laughter followed him down the hallway and the further he walked, the funnier it became.

* * *

The common room had begun to empty, and James struggled to keep his eyes open. He should have known better than to stay up late the night before the full moon. It was good practise for when they finally finished this thing (and he very much looked forward to the ease in studying), but James did like his sleep.

'Maybe we should just do this without him?' Peter asked, stifling a yawn. He did have a point. Slughorn could have lost track of the time and Sirius was doing well enough on his own - it was Peter that really needed the help.

'Give it another ten minutes,' he said. But he knew that in ten minutes he may very well be asleep.

Ten minutes passed and still no sign of Sirius. In the end, James relented and they climbed the stairs to their dormitory. It was nice to have a secure place to practise. Even so, it never got any easier to see Remus's empty bed and know what he was going through. Would becoming animagi help at all? Or was it just some far-fetched theory that would amount to three years of wasted time and a moment of false hope for their friend?

No. It would all work out. James was never wrong.

They had barely settled in when the door opened and Sirius strolled through with the biggest grin on his face. He looked fit to burst, as though privy to a secret so hilarious it threatened the very fabric of his being.

'Slughorn in a good mood then?' James asked.

'Snivellus was sneaking around,' Sirius said as his grin grew wider. 'Trying to find out where Moony and I were.'

James laughed derisively. He'd never learn, would he? But there was worry too, worry that he would see or hear something that he wasn't meant to and figure out what was going on.

'Nosy git,' James said. 'We'll need to get him back for that.' Then, the sensible side of him spoke. 'We should get Remus to talk to Dumbledore too. I don't care what Snape does to us, but it's not good for him to be trailing after Moony.'

'Oh, I think I took care of that.' Sirius's smile became twisted now.

'What do you mean?'

James was on his feet now, as Sirius almost danced towards his own bed. He was wearing the same pride he had worn in the dungeon the day Slughorn had assigned him that night's detention, and seemed still to be almost bursting with the hilarity of whatever he had done.

'He saw Madam Pomfrey leading Moony out to the Whomping Willow,' Sirius explained in an almost bored voice. James didn't find this information as throw-away as Sirius did, and a flash of fear shot through him. 'So I told him if he wanted to know what he was up to so badly, then maybe he should press the knot in the tree trunk and follow him.'

It hadn't happened. It was a dream. James knew this because the sound drained from his surroundings despite the fact that Sirius was openly laughing. But when he ran forward, when he pushed his best friend so hard that he fell backwards onto his bed, the stinging in his palms suggested that this may just be real after all.

'Tell me you're joking,' he demanded. Sirius looked up at him in surprise, the laughter gone from his face. 'Tell me you weren't so _fucking_ stupid!'

'It was just a joke,' Sirius said defensively. He seemed somewhat annoyed that James didn't find this as funny as he did. 'A prank.'

His entire body was shaking, he could barely contain the rage. Those words...they could not have come from Sirius Black. They sounded as though they were straight out the mouth of a Slytherin, excusing the cruel "joke" they had tried to play on Mary Macdonald.

'You...you sent a boy to meet a fully grown werewolf,' he said. It sounded so stupid, so absurd. It sounded like a sick fiction. 'He could...'

Free from the paralysing shock, he turned and bolted for the door.

'James!'

'DID YOU EVEN THINK?' James roared, turning round. 'He could be killed, or worse! You didn't think about him, you didn't think about Remus! If he bites him...' It would destroy him. His condition had left him with so many complexes that some days he could barely function. He was a gentle, kind person with a very low opinion of himself. He _feared_ himself, feared what he became and what he could do to others. They had understood this, had striven to help him cope...but now...

He physically could not say any more, finding some sick satisfaction in watching the colour drain from Sirius's face as the full weight of what he had done fell upon him, and he turned and ran, bursting out of the portrait hole downstairs so fast that the Fat Lady's complaints echoed behind him. Several students yelled after him but he was gone so quickly that they didn't even have a chance to catch up.

Portraits hissed their annoyance at him as he passed, doors rattled as he ran through them. The absence of a cloak didn't even register as the cold autumn air rushed to meet him. Perhaps he was too frozen from what had just happened. The branches of the Whomping Willow swayed gently in the distance and he bolted for them, not even stopping to whisper the incantation as he charmed a rock and sent it into a barely visible knot on the trunk. He had never tried this before, had only known how the tree worked because Remus had explained, but it seemed to have done the trick because the tree froze as it pulled back to take a swing at him and he saw the entrance to the tunnel.

It was dark down there, and cramped, but he lit his wand and sped through the darkness. There were sounds up ahead, though he dared not stop long enough to discern them. The moon would be past its peak now, the wolf would be loose.

_You're mental,_ he told himself. _T__here's a werewolf down there and you're just running to meet it. For _Snivellus._  
_

But there was nothing funny about this joke, nothing funny about lycanthropy. For so long he had been working to help save Remus from himself, now...well, he never thought he would ever have to save the life of Severus Snape, not least that he would be up to the challenge. But whatever Snape was, he didn't deserve what waited for him if he made it to the end of the tunnel.

_And what if he's not even down here?__ What if he just thought Sirius was joking? What if he was too scared?_

There was someone up ahead, and James's heart sank. It was becoming increasingly difficult to proceed at speed, but he pushed on anyway, saw the light up ahead.

'Severus!' he yelled.

But it was too late.

He saw the wolf, saw the hunger in its eyes. And Snape had frozen to the spot, even as the wolf bared its teeth.

James didn't even have time to think of the strangeness of the situation. One of his best friends was there up ahead, only it wasn't his friend at all, it looked nothing like him. It was the first time he had seen a transformed werewolf, and the fact that it was Remus Lupin did nothing to disguise the fact that it looked like it would very much like to eat him right then.

'_Stupefy!'_ he shouted. Making a mental note to apologise to Remus later, he pushed Snape in front of him towards the exit, screaming at him to run. He did not know if the spell would work against a werewolf, but didn't particularly want to hang around to find out, either.

As both boys ran, James continued to fire defensive spells over his shoulder. Given Dumbledore's extensive planning, the wolf was probably unable to enter the tunnel, but he wasn't taking any chances.

His sides were almost splitting, his free hand scrabbling along the wall in an attempt to keep him steady. And then they were out into the fresh air, and James grabbed Snape again, pulling them both clear of the tree.

Splayed against the grass, they both tried to catch their breath.

'A-Are you alright?' James asked when he found the nerve to speak. He pulled himself over to where Snape lay. 'Did-did it bite you?'

The empty horror in Snape's eyes gave way to another emotion. If James was not sure he had to be mistaken, he could have sworn that anger filled them, and not a thanks passed his lips.

'Y-you,' he stammered, pushing his hair out of his face. 'And-and...' He looked back towards the tree. 'You planned this! The four of you! You...he..._werewolf_...'

James tried to calm him down, but there was an anger inside him now. He had just saved this idiot's life and he was going on about how this was their fault?

Snape's face was still drained of colour, his hands shook, and it wasn't the controlled tremors of anger. 'The headmaster-'

'The headmaster is aware of what has happened.'

They both looked up and Snape shrunk back at the sight of Albus Dumbledore, the moonlight reflecting in his glasses. And behind him, shoulders slumped, his face hidden by a curtain of long dark hair, stumbled Sirius.

Dumbledore looked from Snape to James and then up at the Whomping Willow.

'I think...the three of you better come to my office.'

* * *

James couldn't stop shaking, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Professor McGonagall looked at them all with a hard expression, her hands clasped before her. Professor Slughorn, on the other hand, was slumped in a chair, seemingly exasperated. And James felt sorry for him. He was a good man, if not a little strange, and he didn't deserve this.

They had waited calmly and quietly for their heads of houses to arrive, Fawkes cooing quietly in the background. Sirius looked over at him a time or two, but James continued to stare resolutely at Dumbledore's desk. Maybe if he blocked everything out he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Then...they had told their stories, one by one. Snape began to descend into speculation a time or two but the teachers had asked for the facts and only the facts and reminded him so. The silence that fell when the last boy had spoken was broken only by the hushed voices of the teachers as they retreated to the back of the office to discuss what they had been told. When they had returned, what seemed like an eternity later, not a single person in the room wanted to speak.

'I always wondered if Remus's friends knew of his condition,' Dumbledore said at last. 'The four of you have always been so close. Still, when Mr. Black appeared, distraught, outside my office, I was not fully prepared for the tale he would tell.'

James heard Sirius swallow in the chair next to him, and he looked over to see that he sat staring at his knees, hair once again concealing his face. James didn't know what to think or feel.

'Many school rules were broken tonight,' Dumbledore continued. 'Some actions, I dare say, constitute an offence for which the natural course of action is expulsion.'

Sirius slumped forward, his head in his hands.

'However, punishment as always lies with the Heads of Houses. Horace, Minerva, I believe you have decided on your course of action?'

McGonagall's expression was terrifying in its resoluteness. Slughorn merely sighed and looked up towards Snape.

'Severus, you were in the corridors after curfew and out of bounds,' he said. 'You put yourself in unnecessary danger-' Snape shook his head, evidently disagreeing with what he was hearing '-and you showed a complete disregard for rules that were set out for the safety of the students.'

'I was provoked!' Snape argued, but his voice was weak.

'I do not deny that there was provocation,' agreed Slughorn. 'You are, however, old enough I think to be able to rise above such things. Twenty points will be taken from Slytherin and you will serve a detention, the arrangements for which I shall make myself.'

Snape braced himself for more, but it seemed that was it. Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, steeled herself for a moment or two before she spoke.

'Mr. Potter, you too were out of bounds and in violation of curfew, but I do not think there is a person in this room who would fault you for being so,' she said. _I think I can think of one_, James thought in response. 'Thirty points will be awarded to Gryffindor for your bravery. Without your actions, it is not certain that Mr. Snape would be sitting here today.

A quiet, strangled noise was heard in the chairs next to him, the tone of each quite different, but James continued to look at McGonagall, even as she moved on.

'Mr. Black, your actions tonight were extremely reckless,' she said, and there was nothing gentle at all about her voice. In fact, James had never heard it quite so harsh. 'You deliberately endangered the life of your fellow student, you risked exposure of Mr. Lupin's condition, and I won't even bother getting into the rules that you have broken because the first point alone is enough to cost you your wand and enrolment at this school.'

James felt numb, he didn't know what to feel. His best friend was being expelled. Sirius trembled in his seat, his face completely obscured.

'However, there are things that must also be taken into account,' McGonagall continued. 'The most obvious being that you did not force Mr. Snape down that tunnel, you merely suggested that he take the trip, however foolhardy this may have been. And the fact remains that it was you who alerted Professor Dumbledore to what had happened, and this at least shows that you have already taken a measure of responsibility for your actions. The Headmaster remains convinced that you did this out of genuine remorse and I personally do not believe that you should be punished for Mr. Snape's actions as well as your own.'

She paused for a moment to breathe and gather her thoughts, and it was to much dramatic effect.

'Therefore, we have decided that you will not be expelled this time.' Snape let out a sharp noise of disbelief and the tremors in Sirius's arms seemed to cease. '_However_, I must impress upon you the severity of your actions. You will have detention every Wednesday until the end of term, and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor. I will also be writing to your parents.'

She gave him the opportunity to speak, but he remained silent and unmoving until Dumbledore spoke again.

'Severus, I must ask that you keep Mr. Lupin's condition to yourself,' he said. 'Given the measures I myself have personally taken to ensure Remus's continuing residence at this school, I will not take a slip of the tongue lightly. To make myself perfectly clear, I forbid you from telling anyone the true details of what occurred tonight. If you find that you are unable to, then I am afraid that it will not just be Mr. Lupin's future at this school that will be put at risk.'

In other words, if he blabbed he would be expelled.

'Horace, Minerva, if you would take your students back to their dormitories please.'

When Sirius moved, he saw the redness of his eyes, and the way that the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch uncontrollably downwards. But James still said nothing, and Sirius did not seem willing to speak while McGonagall was there.

She did not say a word when she left them at the portrait hole, and James did not linger. When he climbed the steps to the dormitory, Peter was sound asleep though still clothed; it seems he had tried to wait up for them and failed. James had locked himself in the bathroom when he heard the dormitory door open again and he stubbornly ignored the sound as he brushed his teeth and pulled himself into his pyjamas. His limbs seemed heavier than they were that morning and the buzzing in his ears had not entirely faded. Exhaustion drained him of strength and he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

It felt so strange to be so empty of emotion. It probably wasn't healthy, but he was sure that it was all that was keeping him from puking his guts up. Because the wolf's jaws were as visible in his mind's eye as they were in the seconds he had stared into them. The eyes, so familiar and yet so foreign...

Sirius was already changed when he returned to the dormitory, and looked towards him as he made his way back to his bed.

'James-' he said weakly. James was unsure exactly what he injected into the look that he shot him, but it was enough to silence him.

He didn't care how fearful, how guilty Sirius looked. He didn't care that he had almost been expelled. All he cared about were the events that had led to that moment, and the fact that they never should have happened at all.

Wordlessly, he climbed into bed and yanked the drapes shut behind him.


	6. Loony, Loopy Lupin

_5. Loony, Loopy Lupin_

The life of Remus Lupin was a constant cycle of night and day. He never did like the darkness, especially as a child. Darkness meant that he was alone, and no matter how his parents had checked in the wardrobe or under the bed, the monster still came. It came with wild eyes and sharp teeth and it tore a hole in his mattress, in his side and in his life. Ever since that day, _he_ was the monster.

Yes, he separated his existence into night and day, in so many ways. Day was the sunlight, and the warm breeze. Night was the stars and the clouds and sometimes the moonlight. Day was the boy he was born, it was Remus John Lupin, it was that smile and that laugh and that calm kindness. Night was the wolf, the monster, the anger and the bloodlust. Night was the years between the bite and Hogwarts, with the hiding and the loneliness. Day was James and Sirius and Peter, it was Moony and his Furry Little Problem, it was late-night wanderings and sheepish detentions...it was the four of them, the breakers of rules, the marauders of Hogwarts. They were his sunlight, as Lycanthropy was his moonlight. They were the balm to his wounded being, as lycanthropy was the curse that tore him from his own skin. They made the day worth living, and worth the pain of the night.

And the pain of October's night woke him close to noon.

He would have bolted upright when he woke if it weren't for the aches. The wolf had been wild last night and the boy was paying for it.

Remus could not even groan out the discomfort, he merely flinched and squinted his eyes against the light. He appeared to be in the isolation ward at the back of the hospital wing - Avery and Mulciber were obviously still recovering next door.

'Good morning, Remus,' spoke the voice of the Headmaster, so softly that it could have lulled him back to sleep.

He grunted an acknowledgement of his presence as he took inventory of the aches and pains throughout his body. His wrist had been broken and was now healed (amazing how he could tell these things now), there was a healing wound in his side above a formerly broken rib or two, and the wolf had gnawed on its foreleg enough to shear away several layers of skin but the reverse transformation had evidently fixed that as it merely resembled a bad graze now.

All limbs accounted for, he looked to Dumbledore, who sat on the edge of his bed with an expression that was kind but exuded a sense of duty.

'What happened?' he asked hoarsely, a definite measure of panic to his voice. The Headmaster would check up on him from time to time, but he always smiled widely, never shallow and never with that air of seriousness about him.

'Relax, Remus,' he urged. 'Please. Madam Pomfrey will have my head if you over-exert yourself in my presence.' He smiled a little wider and placed a comforting hand on Remus's arm. 'You hurt no-one, do not worry yourself.'

The relief felt somewhat bitter, as though he should feel guilty for accepting it.

'What happened?' he repeated. 'Where are the others?'

'I believe that your friends have been trying to visit all morning. Alas, neither Madam Pomfrey nor myself believed it to be in your best interest just yet.'

In his best interest?

'There was an incident last night,' Dumbledore continued, and Remus's heart sank. He did something, something bad, something serious. 'As I said, nobody was hurt-' this did not make him feel any better '-and you are not in any trouble.'

A moment's silence dragged awfully.

'Your friend Sirius Black decided to play, well, I suppose one could call it a joke, he apparently found it quite amusing at the time of execution-'

'Is he okay?' The pain in his side seared as he jolted. Had they done something dangerous? Had they gone too far and got themselves hurt? If he had been there, maybe he could have stopped them, maybe-

'In a manner of speaking, yes,' said Dumbledore. 'It seems that Severus Snape witnessed Madam Pomfrey leading you to the Whomping Willow last night. Mr. Black, acting rashly and no doubt motivated by anger, suggested that he follow you and revealed exactly how to do so.'

The blood in his veins barely seemed able to carry enough oxygen to his brain, but it still ran cold. It was like a bottleneck had formed somewhere in his chest, so much fear flooding into it that a suffocating pressure built and pressed his heart into his ribcage.

'Severus foolishly did as he suggested. Fortunately Sirius told your friend Mr. Potter what he had done and James bravely went after Mr. Snape, though not before he glimpsed you at the end of the tunnel. Nobody was harmed, I truly do want you to know that. None of this was your fault, the guilty parties have been punished accordingly and Severus has been sworn to secrecy. Given that emotions within your friendship group are running rather high at the moment, I felt that it was better that you hear the events from an unbiased party.'

'What do you mean?' His voice was barely a whisper and he felt weak. Something warm pushed through the fear and his hands shook as though the transformation were upon him again. For in his minds eye he recalled a human face, recalled James, recalled a spell sent in his direction. He saw the fear in Snape's eyes as though it were happening right in front of him, felt the hunger and excitement of the wolf as though it was his own.

'Ah, it appears that Mr. Potter was not too happy with Mr. Black's attempt to see you this morning,' Dumbledore said, looking away. 'Madam Pomfrey was not at all pleased with the ensuing brawl outside her doors.'

Remus sank back into his pillows, his mind and his body completely numb.

'Okay,' he said quietly. 'Thank you, Headmaster.'

Strange, it seemed that the sun was a little dimmer today.

* * *

It was with reluctance that Madam Pomfrey discharged him the next afternoon. His wounds were adequately healed, but she seemed to concern herself over his morose mood. In the end, she chalked it up to 'teenage stuff' and let him go halfway through his free class.

The truth was that the entire day had felt like one uncomfortable dream, and now he walked through the empty corridors of the castle as though he was sleepwalking, with no idea where he was going or what he would do when he got there.

There was Transfiguration, he needed to catch up on that and McGonagall had stopped by that morning to summarise what they had covered in the lesson he had missed. He needed to see Flitwick too, to collect his essay. Or had James or Sirius or Peter picked it up for him?

'Hello, Remus,' greeted Nearly-Headless Nick halfway down a fairly uninteresting wing of the castle. 'Feeling better today?' He couldn't even manage a half-wave in response.

It wasn't until he was almost to the end of the deserted wing that a sound pierced through his oddly haunting stupor.

'Remus!'

Sirius ran towards him, and there were footsteps too in the corridor he had ran from. His usually pristine hair was untidy and there were bags beneath his eyes, like angry bruises against his pale complexion. Evidently Remus was not the only one who had not slept the previous night (and he hazarded a guess that Madam Pomfrey had not exasperatedly walked into the fifth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory at one o'clock in the morning and all but poured a sleeping potion down Sirius's throat, as she had for him).

Now that they stood face to face, Sirius seemed to be at a loss for words. And the whining that had been following Remus all around the castle continued.

'Remus, we...I... We need to talk.'

'I don't want to talk.' It didn't even sound like his voice. It sounded robotic and cold.

'Then just listen. Please!'

Remus nodded and cocked his head towards an empty classroom behind them. He had barely pushed on the door when the approaching footsteps grew louder and James walked round the corner. He froze upon seeing the two of them, swallowed, but said nothing. And they were all quiet as they walked into the classroom, as Remus breathed steadily through his nose. He could almost feel a migraine starting.

'Moony, I am so sorry!' Sirius said as the door quietly closed. The sound of his nickname stung, like sunburn. 'I didn't-'

'You didn't mean to do it,' scoffed James. Sirius looked at him, his grey eyes hard and almost challenging.

'I did mean it,' he said quietly. 'I wish I could say that I didn't but I'm not going to lie, not to either of you.'

'You're lying to yourself, mate.'

'Would you shut up?' Sirius yelled. James didn't even flinch, just continued to stare at his best friend as though he were covered head to toe in dragon dung. 'This doesn't concern you.'

'It concerned me when I was dragging Snape out of that tunnel!' James shouted back. 'It concerned me when I was fixing _your_ problem!'

'Oh, go boil your head in goblin piss, Potter. I didn't do this to you, I did this to him-'

'You're mental, actually mental if you think that anything you have to say will fix what you did!'

'SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP!'

At first, Remus was not sure that it was he who had spoken (or screamed). It did not sound like his voice, did not feel like his emotion. Because he was always so in control, always so calm and collected. Rage was for the wolf, not the boy. Yet he recognised now what it was that afflicted him, and Madam Pomfrey had no spell or potion or secret remedy to cure this ailment.

'This is not about you, it's not about either of you!' He couldn't look at them, so instead he closed his eyes and grasped his hair tightly in both hands.

Breathing deeply and steadily, he pushed the rage back down in his chest and relinquished his grip, losing himself to the manufactured calm.

'The wolf,' he said quietly, choking on the mingled fear and sadness, 'is this shadow, this blackness that has hung over me since I was four. I've been afraid of it my whole life. I don't...I don't remember what my life was like before I was bitten, I don't remember what it was like to be normal. It's all the same to me. I was only four... But mum, and dad...they were the ones that suffered, they were the ones that lost something and they can't ever forget.'

His parents, so in love even after all these years, so happy since he found his friends and thrived at school. It had taken seven years for them to get their lives back. He didn't even know why he was saying all this, just felt that he had to get it off his chest, that it led somewhere.

'It's always the people around me,' he said. His voice was nasally and wet now. 'My parents suffered because of what I am. I had to stay away from other children for their safety. Once a month I'm locked up in that Shack so that I don't tear someone apart, don't curse them like that _thing_ cursed me.'

'Remus...' Sirius's voice was almost as soft as his, but there was nothing soft about the emotion that drew Remus's eyes up.

'When I met you,' Remus said, spitting out the words. 'When we became friends...it was the happiest I'd ever been. I'd never had friends before. And when you found out what I was, and you didn't care...when you saw _me_ and not the wolf...'

'Moony-'

'DON'T CALL ME THAT!' Because in the end it was only manufactured calm, and the rage left him with a volcanic fury at the sound of that name from those lips. 'YOU USED ME!' And then, his voice broke horribly. 'You used me. For some stupid revenge plot. For a prank. Is that all I'm worth to you?'

Sirius shook his head, stepped forward.

'I didn't use you,' he insisted. 'I didn't think, I just-'

A fresh fireball exploded as Sirius stepped closer and Remus threw out his arms, pushed him back into a nearby table, almost sent him flying over the back of it. He had a wand, but there was something so cathartic about this raw, physical rage.

'NO, YOU DIDN'T THINK! You know how I feel about my condition.' _You helped me deal with it_, he wanted to say. But he didn't. Because he had never felt so angry in his life, and truly it was fifteen years' worth of anger spilling out; anger at the world, at the creature that bit him...at the friend who had almost fed an innocent boy to the wolf, had almost fed the fear that haunted the night. 'You treated it like a joke, treated _me_ like a joke! You betrayed my trust.' He moved forward again, pushed his hands into Sirius's chest again, ignoring the sharp pain in his side. 'You betrayed our friendship.' Again, he pushed, and the table Sirius had been backed into was now pressed against the teacher's desk so that there was nowhere for either of them to go. 'You betrayed me! I have never felt so hurt or so humiliated in my life.'

He was laughing, but he was not. Maybe he was going insane. It sure felt like it. He wanted to tear his hair out, wanted to slam his fist into the wall. He had never felt like this in his life, and it was _horrible_. And it was all due to him, to this boy who was like a brother to him. He would have taken the pain of the full moon over this.

The grey eyes were haunted, and it only fed the beast. He didn't want him to be contrite, didn't want him to feel guilty or ashamed, he wanted him to fight back, to display that infamous Black temper. But he didn't. He just stood there looking like he wanted to cry or puke or maybe both.

Remus's upper lip twitched and he lashed out again, pounding his fist hard into Sirius's shoulder.

'YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM!' Thump. 'YOU NEARLY MADE ME HURT AN INNOCENT PERSON!' Thud. 'You used me!'

With one huge surge of energy, he balled his fist and it connected with Sirius's face, knocking him off the edge of the table and onto the floor. He angled himself up for one more, grabbed the front of Sirius's robes-

'Stop it!' James shouted, and he pulled them apart. 'Remus, stop, this isn't you!'

'Get off me!' he cried, shrugging him off. His vision blurred, nails dug painfully into his palm. A bruise had already began to flower in the corner of Sirius's eye and the tones of purple and red suddenly seemed to cancel out the white hot fire that had driven the punch.

There were many emotions now, and his brain and his heart couldn't seem to figure out which was more important. The anger was still there, and there was shame and the desire to just forgive him and let it all be over. There was a new fear and there was sadness, and the self-deprecating sense of worthlessness that had driven him to a desire to flee when he realised that his friends had figured out his affliction.

'Ooh, someone's lost their temper!' cackled a loud voice up above as Peeves materialised and looked down upon them in glee. 'And it's wee little Lupin! Loony Loopy Lupin. Loony Loopy Lupin!'

'Get lost, Peeves!' shouted Remus and James at the same time. They caught eyes for a brief moment before Peeves swore at them and Remus turned away, kicking aside a chair on his way to the door.

* * *

Time passed rather slowly when you spent most of it on your own, Sirius found. He had not slept much the night following his fight with Remus, had been told off for not paying attention in every class the next day, and today's lessons had not gone much better. Although he had successfully executed a near-perfect vanishing spell, he had missed his rat entirely and managed to vanish Justus Aberton's chair right out from under him.

Meals had been the worst. He had taken to skipping breakfast entirely and spent most of lunch in the library until he became dizzied watching the third-year Ravenclaw boy Quirrell study (in his lunch hour?) and wandered outside to find Peter, who had smuggled some food out of the Hall for Sirius, only to have apparently eaten it when he could not find him. Mary Macdonald had grabbed him at lunch that day and forced him to sit with her and her friends and he spent most of that staring at his plate while Lily Evans piled more food onto it and Marlene McKinnon, apparently rather taken with Divination, attempted to read the pulp in the bottom of his empty goblet of pumpkin juice (no, really).

It was the strange kind of couple of days that he would usually have laughed about with James. But oh yeah, James wasn't speaking to him. Remus had calmed down significantly and sometimes he caught him looking over, like there were words on the tip of his tongue, but he did all that he could to avoid hearing them - they wouldn't be anything good.

It wasn't until the afternoon of the second day really that he started to feel...well, anything at all. You see, over the years he had become rather skilled at blocking out unpleasant feelings. It was the only way he could deal with the bile that spilled from his mother's lips as she told him, over and over again, how worthless he was, how embarrassed she was to have a child like him and how Regulus was a much better son than he was. It was the only way he could deal with his father, a very tall and rather well-built man, who would grab him by the back of the neck and throw him out of the room like he was an unwanted dog.

But it stung, because it wasn't Walburga, and it wasn't Orion. It was James, and it was Remus. It was someone he truly cared about. And he had done something horrible, something he could not forgive himself for. How could he ever hope that they would forgive him? How could he ever dare ask?

The feeling that came to him was pain and weakness, radiating from the pit of his stomach. His limbs felt weak, his extremities numb, and every breath that he drew came with a stabbing pain. He barely pulled himself through Charms, shrugging off Professor Flitwick's concern with a claim that he wasn't any paler than usual, the purple and blue bruise on his cheek (who knew Moony could pack such a punch?) just made it appear so, and no, he wasn't going to ask Madam Pomfrey to heal it. He didn't tell Flitwick it was because he felt that he deserved that bruise, and the yellowing ones on his chest and shoulders.

'You don't look so good,' said Reed at dinner, but he waved it off. He was fine, he was just feeling sorry for himself as usual.

Regulus had tried to speak to him earlier, but it was evident almost immediately that he had taken the falling-out as a sign that perhaps his big brother was, at long last, coming round to the family's way of seeing things. Sirius did not mince his words when telling Regulus where he could shove this idea.

Even so, it was Regulus who approached the Gryffindor table with Professor Slughorn, his fellow Gryffindors eyeing the young Slytherin with a measure of wariness.

'You know what, Regulus? I think you may be right.' Sirius tried to lift his head at the sound of the Potion Master's voice, but it felt so heavy. 'Sirius, I think perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey; you're not looking at all like yourself.'

''m fine,' he said, but his mouth was dry and he was shivering now.

'Don't be a bloody martyr,' said Hendricks.

A hand pressed against his forehead.

'You're all clammy,' said Marlene. 'Come on, Sirius, you've been looking like you're ready to collapse since lunch.'

As he attempted to look up at her, he caught the eye of James further down the table. Whatever interest he had taken in the sudden gathering of students, whatever he thought of whatever had drawn the concern of so many, Sirius never found out because he turned to Regulus, who had begun to pull him up off the bench with the help of a surprisingly strong Marlene.

'I think I'm going to have to insist,' said Slughorn. There was a concern he had never seen before on the ageing man's face and suddenly a wave of pure pestilential feeling passed over him. 'Come on, I'll take you.'

A much thinner arm than Slughorn's supported him as he tried to retain some dignity and walk confidently out of the Great Hall. His legs felt like spaghetti. Like tentacles. Maybe they should just throw him in the Great Lake and let him live with the giant squid.

'You never make things easy for yourself, do you?' Regulus whispered. And perhaps it was his delirious state of mind, but Sirius found himself agreeing with his brother.

* * *

Remus continued to stare at his palms long after the crescents his nails had made faded. He had never wanted to lose his temper like that, never planned it or even anticipated that it would happen. He was a pretty level-headed guy when it came down to it.

Perhaps he was prone to moments of explosive anger as a consequence of bottling everything up? It was all steam and pressure, wasn't it? If you didn't release it every now and then, it all built up and eventually a rivet or two had to blow. And everyone had their own anger: Peter's was quiet and huffy, James's was like a wind-up toy rattling on before it eventually ran out of steam, and Sirius's was like gunpowder at a firework display. Maybe his was just volcanic, building up over many years and terrifying all when it came.

Or maybe it was the wolf.

Sirius had not healed the bruise he had given him, though he wished that he would. He couldn't even look at him without being reminded of how he had lost his temper and done some pretty stupid things. And maybe Sirius thought that he avoided his eye because he was still mad, but the truth was that he wasn't. He probably should have been, but the anger just wasn't in him any more. Pain, sometimes, yes, but not anger, not blame.

The common room was empty when Lily returned, and he was still there. Sirius was evidently spending the night in the hospital wing and Peter had gone to bed some time ago, James following huffily.

'Still up?' she asked conversationally, lowering herself into the armchair opposite him.

'Waiting for James to fall asleep,' he said. 'Think I'll give it another half hour.'

Lily raised an eyebrow quizzically.

'You planning on telling me what's going on between the four of you?'

'You haven't heard?' Remus gave an empty smile.

'Everyone has their theories,' said Lily.

'And what's yours?'

Lily laughed, throwing her long red hair over her shoulders.

'You know I don't subscribe to gossip, Remus,' she said. 'That being said, I did hear that James kicked up quite a fuss outside the hospital wing earlier...any idea what that was all about?'

Remus laughed. It was because of that little happening that he had left James to run out of steam on his own; he was getting rather tired of hearing how Madam Pomfrey was being ridiculous and unhelpful.

'He tried to see Sirius after dinner,' he explained. 'They...uh... Last time Madam Pomfrey saw the two of them together they were wrestling outside the hospital wing, trying to get in to see me. Seems that she remembered that because she wouldn't let him in.'

Lily looked a little surprised and leaned forward in her chair.

'I thought they had fallen out?'

'So did Madam Pomfrey,' Remus said, and he laughed but stopped when he realised that Lily had not joined him. So he sighed and racked his brain for the correct words to express something he had never thought he would need to explain to anyone...and indeed wondered if it was at all possible. 'You have a sister, right?' Lily nodded. 'And you don't get on?' She shook her head solemnly. 'If something happened to her, if she took ill, would you just ignore it?' She bowed her head, seeming to understand. 'James and Sirius are like brothers. They could be flinging curses at each other in the halls, but they'd still take a curse for the other if someone else fired it.'

'Did they say what was wrong with him?' Lily asked quietly.

Remus shrugged, and tried to shoo away the creeping concern, to a spectacular degree of failure.

'He's fine, apparently,' he said. It had taken him almost half an hour to calm James down enough to wrangle the answer out of him. 'That's all she would say.'

Lily hummed, mulled over a thought or two.

Remus wondered if he should have tried to visit Sirius himself. Really, he was too afraid. Afraid of what he might say or do, of growing angry again, of making him feel worse than he evidently did, of forgiving him a little too easily.

'Look, I don't know what happened between you,' she said. 'But Sirius sat with us at lunch today and he didn't seem like himself at all. He was almost tolerable. And I don't think it had anything to do with his illness...'

He tried hard not to meet her eye, and swallowed when he failed.

'He did something...reckless,' he said, feeling that he owed her at least some explanation for his recent moodiness. Lily laughed.

'Sirius Black, do something reckless?' her voice dripped with friendly sarcasm.

'He's never reckless with his friends,' he said seriously. 'And I know it wasn't a slight against me, but it affected me and...'

He just didn't know how to word what he felt. How could he explain to her the fear he held, aimed at none other than himself? It was not just Snape who had been in danger that night, it was James too. The night after he returned from the hospital wing he had woken in a clammy sweat, having watched himself tear Snape apart, then turn on James, and Sirius, and Peter. He had watched the light leave their eyes, watched the blood pool beneath them. And when he had woken...

It was Sirius who looked down at him with worry etched upon his face, shaking him and whispering his name. A moment later, he had jumped back, as though he had suddenly remembered that they were not speaking. It was but hours after Remus had blackened his eye, and yet he had roused him from a nightmare that saw his sheets soaked through with sweat.

_I'm sorry,_ he had whispered, as he retreated back to his own bed. On the surface it was an apology for waking him, for touching him or even looking at him after what had happened. But Remus saw beyond that, saw that what he had really meant was _I'm sorry that I gave you this nightmare_.

'Things are strange when you're ill,' she said. 'It's like the whole class feels your absence. The other boys, they...they're quiet. There has never been a prank when you are away and I could probably count on one hand the times I've seen them genuinely smile. They care about you. A lot. So whatever he did...I don't think he meant to hurt you.'

It was funny how he had been telling himself the same thing all day, but it was only when she said it that he started to truly accept it.

* * *

**AN** - Thanks for reading! This update is a little later than I intended but I just got distracted, sorry! Thanks to everyone who has favourited/followed since the last chapter - seems that there were more people than usual reading even if there were no reviews. I'm thinking perhaps I lost some people with the last chapter due to the length, so I apologise for the long update and I'm going through the rest of the story and cutting things down a bit to keep it more condensed.

In other news. I've written the entire story out now, just finished it! So it's going to give me a lot more time to go over and edit/trim/prune/polish it all before I post so I can focus on the writing rather than the story now. So keep letting me know you're interested and want more and I'll keep bringing it (let me know too how frequent you would like updates - if you want them closer together, further apart, etc.).

Thanks again, and please review! :)


	7. The Black Family Madness

**Year of the Wolf**

_6. The Black Family Madness_

There were no roamers that night, no rule-breakers sneaking about after curfew. For this, Remus was thankful. He was rather too tired and emotionally drained to dole out punishments tonight.

He had only just decided to call it a night when there was a noise very much like a tripped footstep behind him. He spun around, raising his wand high enough to throw light over the entire hallway. Nothing. He sighed and lowered his wand. Hearing things was surely a sign of madness.

When he turned to continue his journey, he felt the back of his legs brush against something and almost tripped. But still, there was nothing there...

'James!' he hissed, reaching out and closing his fingers over an invisible silky mass. James remained crouched as the cloak was pulled from over him. 'What are you doing? It's past curfew!'

'Really?' James asked sarcastically, straightening himself up and attempting to snatch his invisibility cloak back out of Remus's hands. 'I had no idea. I was just sneaking around under this cloak on my own for the bloody fun of it!'

Remus raised an eyebrow. There were no witnesses; was he really bound to punish his friend? If he were to just throw the cloak back over him and walk away, he could pretend that he hadn't seen him at all. And why had he even bothered to confront him in the first place?

'Go back to the common room,' he recommended. 'Or I _will_ take you to McGonagall. I'm supposed to be keeping these hallways clear.'

James met his eye with a look of stubborn defiance.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he insisted. And then his expression softened, and fearful concern seeped into everything from his expression to his posture. 'He's missing, Moony. Sirius. Nobody has any idea where he is.'

'He's still in the hospital wing.'

'That's what I thought too! But...I went to check on him after dinner and Madam Pomfrey said he'd been released just after breakfast. She said he hadn't eaten anything in a couple days and it just caught up to him. Said it's not uncommon in O.W.L. year. But he hasn't attended any classes today and he hasn't returned to the Tower.'

Remus braced himself against the guilt that swept through him. If it was stress that had distracted him, it was not due to O.W.L.s.

'I know we're not speaking, but I'm worried about him,' James said. 'Really worried. So I can't just go back-'

'Let me look for him,' Remus said. 'You-'

'I'm not going back! And I'll hex you if you even think about trying to stop me!'

Remus smiled, and was not even reluctant to acquiesce.

'Put on the cloak,' he told him. 'We'll split up - I'll do the East side of the castle, you do the West, we'll meet back here when we're done.'

At long last he relinquished his grip on the cloak and James vanished beneath it instantly.

The castle was almost entirely deserted this time of night, even the teachers had mostly gone to bed. Remus focused his search on the empty classrooms and cupboards, even poked his head down a couple of the secret passages they knew about. Sirius was not in the bathrooms or the storerooms, not in any hidden corner or open space. When he returned to the spot he had arranged to meet James at almost an hour later, he was almost crippled with worry, hoping that James had had better luck.

'You didn't find him?' James's whisper preceded his appearance. 'I checked everywhere, he's just...gone. I don't understand.'

His face was pale, his eyes wide. And Remus could see the conflict within his mind, as part of him remained mad at Sirius for what he had done, but a bigger, much more significant part cared about him too much to let anger override concern.

'He's got to be somewhere,' Remus said. 'He can't have just disappeared, he has to be somewhere in the castle-'

The same thought seemed to hit James, because he suddenly looked up, suddenly seemed excited.

'Maybe he's not _in_ the castle!' James theorised. And he threw the cloak over Remus too as they carefully made their way outside, thankful at least that the grounds were as empty as the castle.

They tripped over one another's feet a time or two in their rush, still too nervous to shed the cloak and sprint. The Whomping Willow swayed gently before them and after a moment's searching, Remus spotted a long branch in the grass and held up his wand outside the cloak.

'_Wingardium leviosa_,' he whispered, and the branch flew into the air. The tree froze when it hit the knot and both boys ran forwards, emerging from the cloak once safely in the tunnel.

'If he's not here...' James said in a breathy voice. Remus shared the sentiment. If Sirius was not in the Shrieking Shack - the one place in the grounds where nobody would bother him - then they were out of ideas and would have to alert staff because they'd really have a problem.

He did not like being here on an ordinary night. His body seemed to almost reject being there, as though it expected pain. But they pushed on, and Remus raised a finger to his lips when they emerged into the Shack. James clamped a hand over his mouth as he took in the destruction, and Remus felt his heart sink. They had never seen anything quite so close to his darker side, and though he was used to the broken furniture and the bites and scratch marks, he could see how it would be rather shocking to an outsider.

A faint intermittent noise could be heard upstairs, like the hiss of a flame doused by moisture. Remus made sure that he was first to climb the stairs, and he did so slowly. The sound, it seemed, came from a room at the top of the stairs. Cautiously, he pushed open the door with his wand drawn.

The boy in the darkness, sat on the floor with his back against the wall, looked up and a look of intense, indecipherable emotion fell over him. But the moment left, and he turned back to the small paper birds he had been lighting up with a flick of his wand, grimacing as the last fell to the floorboards as ash.

Before Remus could say anything, there was a sharp intake of breath behind him and he was pushed roughly to the side.

'There he is!' James fumed. 'I'm going to kill him!'

'_Expelliarmus!_' Remus caught James's wand as it flew towards him. Really, he had been lucky that he had seen the tell-tale movement - James was rather quick on the draw.

'Give it back!' he yelled. 'Remus, give me back my wand, I'm going to hex him into next century!'

'And that is a perfect reason why I _shouldn't_ give this back.'

James lunged for it, but Remus held it out of his reach and raised his own wand in warning. Seeming to realise that it wasn't worth it, James turned back to Sirius and ran towards him, falling to his knees and gripping him by the shoulders.

'What the hell were you thinking?' James screamed, shaking Sirius in a not-so-gentle manner. 'Do you have any idea how worried we were? Do you...'

The breath seemed to leave him and with a strangled cry he rolled to the side and joined his friend against the wall, burying his head in his hands. Sirius just stared at the floor, his wand hanging limply from the hand that rested on his knee.

It took a moment or two for Remus to gather his thoughts and join them, settling down on Sirius's other side. He eyed him warily as he sat, though the fingers on his wand did not so much as twitch. He seemed to be readying himself for something, perhaps expecting a silent and sudden retribution. More than that, he seemed ready to take it.

'You look like crap,' Remus said. He really did; his hair, while not quite as greasy as Snape's, still looked like it would benefit from a good wash, and the bruise around his eye had turned a nasty shade of purple and yellow.

A soft, humourless laugh left his lips, but he didn't reply.

'Have you been here all day?' James, for the moment, seemed to be struggling with speech, so it was all on him.

'Went back to the dormitory for a bit,' Sirius said. His voice was hoarse and heavy. 'Wandered. Too many people. Thought it would be quieter here.'

It always was. Quiet, but not peaceful.

'And how long were you planning on staying down here?'

Sirius shrugged. Remus had expected an apology, or even a mild protest. To receive nothing, to see this usually confident boy shrunken so far into his shell he couldn't even look them in the eye, stung.

It was easy to forget sometimes that he had his own demons, that for most of his life he had been treated like his opinion, his thoughts and feelings even, didn't matter. And Remus had added to that, just as Sirius had added to his fear of the wolf, by denying him the opportunity to explain himself, to explain why he had acted so out of character and hurt someone he had always sought to help and protect.

'What's going on, Sirius?' Remus asked. Because he needed help, and Sirius Black was far too proud and independent to ask for it. 'And don't you dare say "nothing", because if you don't owe James this much, you sure as hell owe me.'

In the darkness of the Shrieking Shack, the only sound was that of Sirius licking his lips, and of James breathing erratically into his hands.

'They hate me,' Sirius said, in that same quiet voice. 'All of them. My whole family.' Remus found it hard not to feel a little annoyed - he had expected this to be about him, not about the Blacks. 'I was always different, and I've always been proud of that, but...growing up, being told that you're worth nothing, that your own parents are ashamed of you...' He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 'The whole family was there; my aunt and uncles, my cousins. I got into an argument with Bella and she turned vicious. Said my parents weren't trying hard enough to beat my silly ideas out of me. She offered to do it for me...said the Cruciatus curse might help "educate" me.'

Remus drew a sharp intake of breath. Bellatrix Lestrange was a nasty piece of work if the stories that reached his ears were all true.

'When the rest of the family had left, my father started with his usual passive aggressiveness and I was so riled up that it escalated into a full-blown argument. So I told him what Bella had said, told him his family isn't as honourable as he would like to believe.' He stopped to catch his breath, and Remus saw that his hands were shaking. 'He said that she would have been right to do it, that I'd deserve it.' He pushed the heel of his palm into his eyes and tried to steady his wavering voice. 'I don't know what I said, but I was an idiot and lashed out and he just lost it. He hit me with his stupid walking stick, I think just to push me away, but he didn't stop. And I just...took it. I should have defended myself, should have ripped that stupid thing from his hands, but I just...'

James emerged from his hands and pressed himself back against the wall, anger contorting his features.

'I've never seen him so angry before, he just lost it; he's usually the calm, quiet one. He only stopped because Regulus ran in and begged him to. One word, that's all it took. From him. The better son. I've just been so...so _angry_ at everything and everyone. Because I have to go back to that place, back to them. And maybe I am one of them after all. This is what it is, isn't it? The Black family madness. Centuries of inbreeding has rotted our minds. I just can't stop lashing out, I can't control this. And the worst thing...I hurt someone I care about, someone who means more to me than they ever will. I treated him like he was subhuman, and he didn't deserve that.'

An icy feeling spread through Remus's chest as Sirius finally turned to face him.

'I never meant to hurt you, Remus,' Sirius said. 'I am so sorry for everything I have put you through. You didn't deserve any of this.'

Remus wanted just to squeeze his knee and tell him that it was all right, that all was forgiven. But his voice did not seem to be working, and his nose felt almost too big for his face.

'So...you should just go,' Sirius said, turning back to stare at the floor between his knees. 'Because I don't care if you don't forgive me; I don't forgive myself.'

'Will you just listen to yourself?' Remus breathed. It seemed to take Sirius by surprise because he gasped audibly. 'What happened, it's not about you. It was done to me, and you know what? I forgive you. Okay? _I forgive you_. And if you can't forgive yourself, that's your problem.'

'Remus...'

'No, you shut up and listen to me!' He was on his knees now, face set in an expression of determination. 'I know that what you did had nothing to do with you trying to hurt me. You weren't thinking straight, you saw a way to get back at Snape, as dumb and reckless as that was, and you just went for it. I know you, Sirius, you've been my best friend for over four years! I know you didn't mean to do this to me, even without watching you self-destruct with guilt over the past few days.'

'But-'

'Yes, I was hurt. Yes, I felt humiliated and betrayed, but guess what? I got over that. I got over it because it was this unconscious hiccup - I don't care how big a hiccup it was - in years of you being the kind of friend I quite often can't believe I have. I accept your apology, and I forgive you. End of story.'

Sirius did not tear his eyes away from him, seemed to barely be able to process all this.

'You always say that it's a person's choices that make them who they are,' Remus said. 'And you know what? I think we're allowed to make a bad one every once in a while.'

Sirius looked away, closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head. If there were any part of Remus that was still angry over what had happened, it would have been placated by the anguish he witnessed upon his friend. He was tearing himself apart over this, was punishing himself more than Remus could ever think to do. All _was_ forgiven, and he wished that he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

'Don't go running off like that again,' James warned. 'Your family may not care about you, but we do and that wasn't- You can't just-'

With a cry of frustration he balled his fist and hit Sirius on the arm. The older boy smiled, and it was a genuine smile, and the relieved laughter that fell from his lips felt for a moment as though it could precede a joke.

'I'm sorry,' Sirius said. 'For that and for dragging you into this, James.'

James grunted; a sign that he accepted the apology, but was still mad at him.

And Remus felt an apology of his own coming on as he looked at Sirius.

'I'm sorry about...' he said, gently waving his fist. Sirius smiled.

'Don't be,' he said. 'You've got a mean right hook. I'm actually incredibly proud.'

'It makes him look all rugged too,' James laughed. 'He was getting too pretty for his own good.'

'You got another one of those going spare, Moony?'

* * *

Remus made them wear the invisibility cloak as they made their way back to the dormitory, and Sirius was glad for the distraction it caused. The last few days had felt as though he were trying to breathe underwater, and suddenly his airways were clear, suddenly the world didn't ripple around him.

He had thought that he would never be able to forgive himself for what he had put Remus through, but when he had _been_ forgiven...it was as though the burden had been lifted.

'Moony, mate,' said James suddenly. 'You remember we're Gryffindors, yeah? Well, uh...this is the way to the _Hufflepuff_ common room.'

'No it's not,' Remus insisted, leading the way with a brisk pace. 'It's the way to the kitchens. I think it's safe to assume that Sirius hasn't eaten anything all day and the last time he forgot to feed himself he ended up in the hospital wing, remember?'

As if on cue, Sirius's stomach grumbled and James suppressed a laugh. It wasn't that he was trying to starve himself, he had just had more important things on his mind than food.

'Ah, here we are!' Remus declared before he tickled the pear. James and Sirius emerged from beneath the cloak and slipped into the kitchens before him.

Almost immediately, the house elves (fewer in number than they were at peak times) bowed in welcome and surrounded the visitors with wide eyes and eager expressions.

'Our friend here hasn't eaten since breakfast,' James announced, slapping Sirius on the back. 'Think you can help him out?'

'Of course, sir!'

'Right away!'

As one, the crowd of elves scattered to various corners of the vast room, and Sirius was increasingly aware of an ache in the pit of his stomach. It was humiliating enough that he had almost passed out from hunger he had not even picked up on. And perhaps the others sensed this because they too tucked into the food that was brought to them - James even fought him over the last cauldron cake as a little elf squeaked 'Sirs, we have more!'.

It was the thirst that was the killer, and he drained a whole flagon of pumpkin juice himself.

'More drink, please!' he gasped.

'Say, you don't have any mead, do you?' asked Remus. 'Or some Firewhisky?'

Sirius spluttered on the last mouthful of juice and James sprayed a small amount of crumbs onto a nearby elf.

'Remus!' he coughed, choking on the final bite of cake. Remus just shrugged.

'What?' he said defensively. 'We've broken so many rules tonight, what's one more?' He smiled. 'Besides, there is technically nothing in the school rules pertaining to the consumption of alcohol on the premises or indeed prohibiting us from requesting said alcohol from the kitchen staff. And I think we can all agree that we probably need it.'

The house elves evidently agreed with this as they returned with a large bottle of mead and three glasses, which they promptly filled.

'I think I like this new side of you, Moony,' James said with a devilish grin.

Sirius eyed their friend with mild suspicion, which faded as they began to drink. He had not expected Remus to forgive him so readily, but he had a point. It was his prerogative to forgive Sirius and to brush this whole thing under the mat and if that was what he had chosen to do then he wasn't going to be the one to press the issue.

And so they drank and they talked, and the room became a little less steady around them. Close to an hour later, Sirius was slumped against a wall with Remus at his side as James led a giggling house elf in a waltz around the kitchen.

'Don't even think about it,' Remus slurred. Sirius's lips had barely parted but he clamped them shut. Did mead make you psychic? 'It's over, it's done.'

Sirius dared say no more and shoved another cake into his mouth for good measure. His glass of mead was almost empty but he still raised it in a quiet toast and after clinking their glasses they gulped down the rest and decided that maybe it was time to leave.

If only the floor had not seemed to bewitch itself.

'I got'chu,' said James, though he was a little unsteady on his legs himself. 'C'mon, we'shud...'

'Thank you, sirs!' the house elves called as they helped one another through the door.

'Come again!'

It took a full five minutes for James to wrestle the cloak out of his robes and throw it over all three of them. Their feet seemed to want to take them in different directions, and each boy had to cling to the other to remain upright. Mead was perhaps a bad idea, but Sirius could not remember the last time he had felt so happy, and Remus had to hold a hand to his own mouth to stifle laughter.

None of them really realised where they were going until they were already in the Dungeons and on the way to the Slytherin common room. And it was James who emerged from beneath the cloak, ignoring the frantic whispers behind him.

'I have 'n idea!' he said, looking at his reflection in the visor of a suit of armour.

'James, c'mon!' Sirius urged, though he doubled over laughing.

'He's right,' hissed Remus. 'We're not s'posed to be here.'

But the idea had taken root and maybe it was the mead, but he felt like a genius right then.

'When was the last time we did a proper prank?'

Sirius caught on to the idea and appeared from beneath the cloak a moment later.

'Y'mean...?'

James nodded enthusiastically, grabbing onto Sirius.

'We gonna charm the...the...things?' asked Remus, still invisible.

Really, James had probably gotten the idea from Peeves, who would often float invisible and shout insults at random students. And Mary's assault was still too fresh in their minds.

James and Sirius shushed one another as they extracted their wands, signalling to the suits of armour that lined the corridor.

'C'mon, Moons!' Sirius said. There was a grunt somewhere behind them, then a muffled shuffling.

'How do I get this thing off?'

A moment later there was a thud and a sigh and a solitary foot became visible. James almost choked on the laughter he tried to fight, and dragged his cloak off their fallen friend.

It took them barely ten minutes to charm their way around the corridor, and it was just in time, for quiet footsteps could be heard in the distance. They almost tripped over one another as they scrambled for cover beneath the cloak and ran as fast as their drunk legs would carry them...almost right into Mr. Filch.

'Anyone there?' he demanded. He almost stepped right over Remus's leg as they fell into a wall and slid down it, cowering as they were.

Sirius just lost it, and he was pretty sure it wasn't the mead this time. He was caught in the moment, in the hilarity of their predicament, of James almost curled entirely on Moony's lap in order to stay under the cloak, of just being with two of his best friends and having the best time in such a troublesome predicament. If Peter had been with them, he would be pissing himself right now.

He had to bury his face in James's shoulder to stifle any sound, and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks from the force of the laughter that shook him. And when he looked up, when he caught Remus's wide eyes above the hand firmly clamped over his mouth, he lost it again and grabbed James's sweater, and they were all still shaking in silent laughter long after Filch moved on.

It was a miracle that they made it back to Gryffindor Tower, and another entirely when they made it through the portrait hole and up the stairs. They all collapsed on Sirius's bed, Peter snoring away in the silence. By now, they could not control the subdued volume of their laughter. Remus could barely breathe at all; he didn't even make it onto the bed, just collapsed beside it with his back against the frame, the curtains in his face.

'So...close...' James wheezed. 'Can't...believe...'

'Moon?' A soft snore joined Peter's melody. 'I don't believe it.'

Sirius rolled back onto the mattress, accidentally head-butting James. It was lucky that the beds were rather spacious, luckier still that Remus hadn't quite made the climb.

'I think you're a bad influence, mate,' James said.

'Me? I haven't spoke to him in days! If anyone's a bad influence, it's you!'

'Could be Peter?'

They both looked at the curtains in the rough location of Peter's bed and burst into wheezing laughter.

'I missed you.' And with three words, James had brought a chill back to the moment. 'Don't do anything stupid like that ever again.'

Oh, he wouldn't. Not ever. It truly did put things in perspective; three years they had spent learning to be animagi, to do this great thing for Remus...and in two thoughtless minutes he had hurt him more than he ever thought he was capable of.

'And we have to do something about your family,' James said sleepily.

'There's nothing that can be done.'

'They're no good for you.'

'Tell me something I don't know.'

'You're better than them. I don't know about any "Black Family Madness", but you're a good person.'

Sirius grimaced. He wished that James wouldn't say things like that. Regulus may have been his brother by blood, but James was the brother who had earned that title, the person he was closest to in the entire world. And it was just cruel that the only time he ever felt loved was at the Potter residence, with Mrs. Potter's warm hugs and sublime cake, and Mr. Potter's genuine interest in his life and his hobbies and interests. For a few weeks every summer, he felt as though he were actually wanted.

He turned to James, wanted to say all this while the mead still gave him courage, wanted to ask him if he could spend Christmas with the Potters instead of returning home, if next year he could spend the entire summer there. But James was fast asleep, his mouth open and glasses still on.

It was probably a good thing, Sirius realised. Because in the end, he was the Black family heir. There were certain things that were expected of him, he couldn't just hide at his best friend's house.

_Is it really any wonder_, he thought as sleep came for him too, _that half my family is mad? We're the ones who have to live with each other._

* * *

**AN** - Thanks for reading! And a huge thanks to _PhoenixFireHope, Time Enough, Kazo Sakamari _and _crazylame1_ for reviewing! It means a lot :).  
I hope you enjoy the latest chapter - this was one of the trickiest to write but also one of the most fun, strangely.

As usual, please review! :)


	8. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

**Year of the Wolf**

_7. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

Remus woke with a pain in his back as Peter lightly kicked his feet.

'Moony?' he whispered delicately.

Remus opened one eye but saw nothing but curtains. It felt like there was a hand resting against his head, but that was just too _weird_.

The curtains were pulled back and he wasn't the only one who groaned. Too much light and too little sleep. The hand on his head moved and so too did he, helped to his feet by Peter.

'What happened to you guys?' Peter asked. He seemed torn between concern and amusement and when Remus turned he could see why. Sirius propped himself up onto his elbows, struggling to open his eyes. James had sat upright, his hair a worse state than any of them had ever seen it, glasses so askew he was almost wearing them sideways.

'Mornin', Pete,' James croaked.

'Did you go out last night?' Peter sounded a little offended that they had not called upon him to join in their adventure.

'It was kind of an impromptu thing,' Remus explained with a yawn. 'What time is it?'

'Half seven,' said Peter. He looked at Sirius and James as the former tried to rescue the latter's glasses since James seemed to be doing nothing about them. When Peter spoke again it was in a quiet voice. 'Are things...back to normal?'

Remus turned to look at the others, as Sirius put James's glasses on himself and laughed, prompting their rightful owner to snatch them back and administer an elbow to the chest.

'Were they ever normal to begin with?' he asked.

The mead seemed not to have any lingering effects, save for a bad taste in the mouth and the reminder of a bad night's sleep, but it still took them longer than usual to change into a fresh set of robes. Sirius ended up absent-mindedly changing into his pyjamas and didn't have the patience to change back, so that was how he attended breakfast.

They had almost forgotten the charming of the dungeon suits of armour, until the entirety of Slytherin House shuffled into the Great Hall in varying levels of moodiness. Some students from the other houses were snickering into their cereal and when McGonagall approached them at their table she looked perhaps the least sure that she had ever been that they were behind this.

'I don't suppose you know how this happened?' she asked.

'How what happened, Professor?' James sounded so innocent Remus almost believed him.

'Someone, Mr. Potter, charmed the armour in the dungeon to shout insults at passing Slytherin students,' she explained stiffly. She then told them of the time it had taken Professor Flitwick to return the suits to normal, made increasingly difficult by one stubborn suit which, it turned out, was not in fact charmed, but rather host to Peeves, who had hidden himself within said suit and decided to join in the "fun".

At this, James and Sirius collapsed against each other in hysterics, barely able to breathe let alone defend themselves. Remus saw McGonagall puff herself up, ready to deliver punishment.

'Please, Professor,' he said. 'They were with me all night.'

It wasn't even a lie. The fact that Professor McGonagall decided to accept that and not even suspect that the Prefect could have anything to do with it wasn't exactly his fault.

She breathed deeply and nodded at him.

'Very well,' she said. 'My apologies, boys.' The others seemed so taken aback by this apology that they suddenly stopped laughing and sat up straight. McGonagall did a little double-take and narrowed her eyes at the oldest boy in the group. 'Mr. Black, is there a reason you are wearing pyjamas in the Great Hall?'

Sirius looked down at himself, and James and Peter laughed.

'I'm sure there is, Professor,' he said. 'I bet it's a good one too.'

Professor McGonagall simply rolled her eyes and gave a quiet sigh.

'Just be sure to change before you enter my classroom,' she suggested. 'Otherwise I may have to find something from my own collection for you to wear.'

Remus choked back a laugh as she swept away.

The rest of breakfast was fairly uneventful, though Sirius left early to change and James and Peter followed him once Remus assured them he would be fine on his own. Truthfully, the morning and night that preceded it were the best of their kind he had had in some time and they could not possibly have found him in a better mood. Was it the falling out that made him appreciate them all being friends again? Or was it just that he had not taken time in so long to just appreciate the friends he had?

'I know it was them,' whispered a voice in his ear before someone occupied the space beside him. 'Why did you lie for them?'

Lily look at him accusingly. Of course she would be angry - her best friend was a Slytherin and very likely one of the "victims" of the beautifully obnoxious suits of armour.

'I didn't lie,' Remus said. He knew what her reaction would be, yet it still seemed _important_ to tell her this. 'They _were_ with me all night.'

Lily opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Perhaps, at war with her image of Remus Lupin and the reality before her, it was too much for her to process?

'_You_ were a part of this?' she hissed angrily. 'I can't believe you'd fall to their level!'

Remus shook his head sadly. There was no falling to any level. She disliked James and Sirius - how could he ever hope that she would understand? And really, she was no saint herself, and was definitely no stranger to mischief.

'Nobody got hurt,' he said with a sigh, cutting up the last of his eggs. 'It was just letting off steam. We're allowed to do that every once in a while.'

She seemed unable to disagree with this and sighed quietly. He could almost hear her thoughts, hear her wondering why he defended them.

'They're my friends,' he said, pre-empting a question she would probably never ask.

'Remus, you're so different to them...'

'No, I'm not.' He smiled at the naïvety of her words. 'Not really. They're just a lot different to your perception of them.'

She looked at him with those big, green eyes, intrigued but not quite enough to ask him to elaborate.

Remus looked at her, tried to analyse her silence. What was it about James Potter that got so badly under her skin? There was not a prank James was a part of that did not heavily involve Sirius Black, and yet she was far more lenient on the latter. Quite often, Sirius would be stood at James's side as Lily let loose at Potter. It annoyed him sometimes. He thought that James was getting all the credit. But she could still talk to Sirius without looking as though every inch of him irritated the life out of her.

Because she _did_ laugh at their pranks, no matter what she might claim afterwards. Her moral centre was simply a little more vocal than his.

He considered for a moment pointing this out, and telling her that they were a lot more similar than she thought. But then he realised that yes, they _were_ a lot more similar than _anyone_ thought, so perhaps mentioning such a thing was not a very wise idea.

'I suppose it explains why you stumbled in drunk at one in the morning,' she said with a wry smirk. 'Oh don't look at me like that. I couldn't sleep, was in the common room - and you were hardly being quiet!'

Remus turned a deep shade of pink and shoved the last forkful of food into his mouth.

'I take it this means you're all friends again?'

'You sound almost relieved.'

She smiled, warmly this time.

'I'm just glad you're smiling again,' she said. 'And that I don't have to survive another lunch with Sirius Black as our guest of honour.'

'You seemed to get along pretty well.'

'He's surprisingly tolerable when he's not being an arse.'

'Which is approximately two thirds of any given day.'

'Remus!'

'He's my friend - I'm allowed to talk about him like that. Besides, our re-friending was based on the mutual acknowledgement that he _was_ an arse and is very sorry for it.'

Lily stared at him.

'Bloody hell.'

* * *

The Hogsmeade visit was very much appreciated at that point. O.W.L. year was proving to be just as stressful as everyone had claimed, and Peter was almost tearing out clumps of his own hair in stress. James and Sirius had asked to meet them later, so for the first part of the day Remus took him to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks and even to the Post Office to look at all the owls - something he always loved to do.

By lunchtime he was smiling and had stopped his anxious tremors. Remus couldn't blame him, really. They had not yet talked about their N.E.W.T. options, but in all likelihood Peter would not be able to take some of the classes they did. Potions was likely, but his Defence Against the Dark Arts grade was barely passable, and though he was growing remarkably better at Transfiguration, the less said about Charms the better.

'Why do they want to meet so far out?' Remus wondered aloud. Peter shrugged, sucking on what was left of his lolly.

'More to add to the map?' he wondered.

That was just silly. Their map, which was currently little more than scribbled notes and diagrams, only charted the school grounds, and very crudely at that. It was the only way they could get around the enchantments that made Hogwarts unplottable.

They were heading up into the mountains as they reached the spot in which they had agreed to meet and Remus's heart sank. They had something planned, for sure. Why else would they want to be so far out of the village and away from wandering eyes? As much fun as he was having lately, he didn't much feel like getting a string of detentions with the amount of homework he had to do.

'It's too cold,' Peter complained as he drew his cloak further around himself. Remus had to agree; Scotland was not warm at the best of times and with winter fast approaching the mountains were hardly a good place to be.

They waited for about ten minutes when the distant shifting of rock could be heard. Remus glanced over his shoulder, squinting against the chilly breeze, and for a moment thought he saw...

'Must be losing my mind,' he muttered, turning back to Peter. Only, Peter wasn't there.

He jumped to his feet.

'Peter? Peter!'

There was no sign of his friend. The area was fairly open and, no offence to Peter, but he was hardly the fittest student in the school or the easiest person to hide...where on Earth had he gone?

He jumped as a rat scurried past the rock on which they had been sitting. He didn't like this one bit.

More rock fell and he glanced over to an animal slowly picking its way across the rough terrain. It was a deer, likely a juvenile stag, and it seemed to stare directly at him. He had never seen a stag outside of the zoo before, and suddenly realised that he was very unaware if this was natural or if he was in any danger at all. The antlers seemed rather well developed and the fur around its neck was rather ruffled - it looked unnervingly wild.

Fingers traced the outline of the wand in his pocket – those antlers could do some damage if it decided to charge.

'Shoo!' he hissed. 'Go away! I haven't got any food, if that's what you're after.'

The stag did not move. It just...stared.

And just then, the strap of his bag pulled gently against him. He had barely managed a half-turn when it was wrenched from his shoulder, and an enormous black dog was bounding off with it.

'Hey!' he yelled, taking off after it. At the sound of his voice, the dog slowed. He reached out, fingers mere inches from the tail.

It changed direction and he fell face-first into the sparse grass of the mountainside, groaning as paws pressed him into the ground before thudding off into the near distance. When he looked up, the dog looked back at him. Its pale eyes seemed to glisten as it held the bag between its teeth.

'Drop it!' Remus said. And the dog obliged. But a moment later, it was not a dog, rather the laughing form of Sirius Black.

'Remus, your face!' he howled.

Stunned into silence, Remus remained frozen on the ground, turning only at the laughter of James Potter, standing where the stag had once stood, clutching his sides.

'We're sorry,' he said with a smirk as he approached and held out a hand to help his friend to his feet. 'Couldn't resist.'

There were many perfectly reasonable explanations for this. He was going mad, definitely. Better go back to the castle and pack his things, because animals didn't just turn into friends all the time. Maybe he had gotten _too_ cold and passed out and was now lying in the nice warm hospital wing nursing a concussion?

'Surprise!' Sirius said. And a moment later, he was a dog again and was chasing the poor rat that had crawled out from under the rock.

Only, a moment after that, the rat was now Peter and he was holding his hands up towards the dog.

'Stop!' he wheezed. 'Sirius, mate, no! That was...that was...' And he collapsed in laughter, clutching his sides.

'Gonna have to be faster than that, Wormtail, if we're going to outrun a wolf!' The dog was a sixteen-year-old boy again.

And suddenly, it all clicked into place.

It had been a brief suggestion, really. A moment of madness in second year after they had discovered his secret. They had tried for weeks, months even, to find a way to help him, to ease the pain of his transformations and just help him cope. Of course, Remus had shrugged off the animagus idea rather quickly; it was a long shot and it was too dangerous, required too much effort, and he didn't want them to go through all that just for him. They had done enough just by accepting him for who and what he was.

He really should have known by now that they never really listened to him.

'Moony?' James asked, stepping closer.

Remus was speechless. He wanted to say something, wanted to express this strange warmth that seemed to blossom within. But he couldn't. And in the end, he just threw his arms around James and squeezed him hard.

'You're not angry?' He sounded relieved. 'He's not angry! Told you!'

How could he have possibly been angry? The work, the struggle...and they had done it all for him.

'It's brilliant, really,' said Sirius. 'Peter here is small enough to press the knot on the tree. And I'd like to see a wolf take on James and I.'

He agreed - the dog was roughly the same size as the wolf, and the stag was bigger than them both.

'How...how long?' The thoughts in his mind didn't seem to translate well into words.

'About three years,' James said, peeling himself away. 'We started pretty much as soon as we found out.'

Three years? And they hadn't said a word.

'We didn't think you'd agree if you knew,' said Peter apologetically.

'And to be quite honest, we didn't care if you agreed with it or not,' said Sirius with a smile. 'We did our research - werewolves are harmless to animals, including animagi. And even if you do bite or scratch us, it won't affect us at all - it's been documented. Only if we're human at the time.'

They had really thought this through. It wasn't just a casual venture.

He took it in turns to hug Sirius and Peter, not knowing any other way to express his gratitude. He felt like he was twelve all over again and hearing them tell him to shut up and stop overreacting, that they didn't care if he was a werewolf and could they do anything to help?

'Thank you,' he gushed. 'So much, I-'

He had to stop talking. If he didn't he may just burst into tears, and that wouldn't be manly at all.

* * *

Life as a stag was rather odd, James would concede this much. The wolf had eyed them suspiciously at first, had even dared growl at them, until Sirius bared his teeth and growled right back. It did not seem too keen on the stag's antlers either, and eyed them warily for quite some time. But it did not begrudge their presence and it seemed, for now, that their plan was working. Sirius did get a little overexcited and bounded up and down the stairs for a while, and the wolf gave him a look that had James convinced that there was at the very least just a little bit of Remus peeking through.

Peter had cowered in corners for most of the night, and James didn't really blame him - he was a lot smaller than the others. It took an hour or so for the wolf to trust them. It was all about strength, James realised, and as soon as he and Sirius showed it that they weren't going to be bossed around - if anything, _they_ were in charge here - it became less aggressive and when it realised that they meant it no harm either, it became much more welcoming.

They were exhausted the next morning, and surprised to find that Remus joined them at lunch.

'I feel fine,' he was still saying after dinner, as they sat on James's bed with parchment scattered all around them. 'I've never...'

James raised a hand, before he got into the gushing "thank you"s again. He wasn't sure how much more of them he could take.

Remus had no injuries that morning, and claimed that the only reason he was in the hospital wing so long was because Madam Pomfrey was a little too suspicious of his claims to be "feeling fine" and made him stay just to keep an eye on him.

'I remember you being there too,' he said. 'I usually don't remember much, I always block it out... It's really weird.'

It was worth being dead on their feet all day just to see the smile on his face.

'It was terrifying,' said Peter, and the others laughed.

'Don't know what you're talking about, Wormtail,' said Sirius. 'You were hiding most of the time!'

'I'm small!' Peter was blushing.

'That's the second time you've called him that,' Remus said, picking up on the unusual name. 'What is "Wormtail"?'

Sirius caught James's eye and they both grinned.

'We thought since you're "Moony", we need nicknames too,' said James. 'Peter has a tail like a worm, so he's Wormtail.'

'That's not a very nice nickname.'

'I like it!' said Peter proudly. He'd probably never had a nickname before in his life. 'I chose it, actually.'

Remus shrugged and turned to the others.

'So what about you two?'

'We figured it should reflect what we are,' James explained. 'Like "Moony" and "Wormtail".'

The truth was that he and Sirius had not thought about theirs. "Moony" and "Wormtail" had come so naturally. And what did you call a stag and a big black dog?

'So mine should be something related to a dog...' Sirius thought aloud.

'Snuffles!'

James was quite proud of himself, but Sirius shot him a horrified look.

'I don't _snuffle_! It makes me sound like I've got a bloody cold.'

Even Remus and Peter were laughing.

'You kind of look like the Grim,' Peter pointed out.

'Or Black Shuck!' agreed Remus.

'Oh yeah, I'm an omen of death. Thanks, guys.'

'Padfoot?' suggested James. Remus and Peter mulled it over, and Sirius didn't argue. 'It's another name for a Black Dog and...well a dog has pads on its feet.'

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment.

'You know, that's not half bad. Padfoot it is!'

'And I'll be...' James paused. What did one call a stag, exactly? 'Well, I have antlers!'

Sirius laughed. 'Antlers? They're more like prongs, mate.'

He added to the mockery by wiggling his index fingers above his head, but James nodded seriously.

'Prongs is good.'

Sirius seemed heartbroken that his insult had been taking as a compliment worthy of remembrance. Remus had pulled a piece of parchment towards him, leaning over the one that mapped a very rough layout of the dungeons. Upon it, he began to ink something in his neat, looping handwriting.

'Moony,' he said, deep in concentration. 'Wormtail, Padfoot, and...Prongs.'

James looked at him, still dazzled by the smile and hoping that whatever happened, it would never fade.

* * *

**AN** - Filler chapter ahoy! Huge thanks to _Kazo Sakamari_ and _RodeoTown_ for the reviews on the last chapter - I probably sound like a broken record at this time, but I really do appreciate them! Apologies to those who got an update alert a few days ago...I uploaded the wrong chapter, oops.  
For any Jily fans reading this, I recently wrote/uploaded a Jily oneshot, so please feel free to check that out if it's your thing :).

Thanks again, and please review!


	9. Family and Friends

**Year of the Wolf**

_8. Family and Friends_

December came with crisp winter air and a healthy snowfall. Already there were many snowmen taking residence in the courtyard and by the lake, and some of the older students had charmed theirs to perform various amusing feats. Remus had talked the others into merely charming theirs to sing carols at passers by, and the teachers it seemed were rather impressed with both the skill and restraint they had shown.

With winter also came the reluctance that met them every morning when it became evident that they would have to eventually leave the cosy warmth of their bedsheets. Sirius had always been a morning person, but even he found himself clamouring for just an extra five minutes beneath the sheets.

'Wake up!' James urged early one mid-December morning. 'Breakfast! Warm bacon, porridge...mmmm.'

Sirius simply groaned in response and retreated further into his cocoon.

'It's nearly Christmas!' James reminded him, like this was something to get out of bed for, and he felt the mattress dip slightly at his feet.

Somehow, this did nothing to improve Sirius's mood. Christmas was not a happy time for him. Where the other students were excited to see their parents again and spend some time at home, he had always been much happier at school. He would have stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays if he could, even with the others going home. Alas, the whole sodding family was coming over and he didn't have much of a choice.

'And I'm spending Christmas with Lucius Malfoy,' he mumbled into his pillow. 'So sorry if I'm not exactly leaping out of bed.'

He supposed that Malfoy wasn't as bad at Rodolphus. Malfoy at least had a personality - Rodolphus would often just look surly and stare off into space. Sometimes he wondered if there was a brain at all between those ears. It would explain why he had married Bellatrix.

'You don't have to, you know,' James said, and his voice was suddenly quiet. 'You can come spend Christmas at my house.'

At this, Sirius sat up. Of course, he never had to tell James how little he wanted to return home, and how it actually had nothing to do with Lucius Malfoy and everything to do with the antagonism of his relatives.

'Thanks, Prongs,' he said with a smile. 'But Christmas is for family. I'm not going to ruin that for you.'

James looked annoyed and a little offended.

'You won't ruin it, you bloody idiot!' he said. 'Mum and Dad love having you round, it's not just me. And you're pretty much family anyway.'

There were many things he could say to this, but none of them seemed appropriate. This could turn very girly very quickly and let's face it, neither of them wanted that.

'I appreciate the offer, Prongs, I really do, and there is really nothing I would like more than to spend Christmas with you and your parents. But mine would never let me go, you know that.'

Not only was this some big family event what with Narcissa's engagement (and Blacks did like to draw out celebrations for nice, pureblood unions) and Rodolphus actually crawling out of his cave long enough to attend a social function (twice in one year had to be a record), but it was also the last Christmas before he came of age.

He shuddered at the thought. Maybe that was why they were getting more and more intolerable - when he came of age he would be expected to find a nice pureblood girl to marry as soon after graduation as he could, to cement his place in the family. He would become the head of the Black family and everything they owned would be as equally his as Orion's. The only thing that really appealed to him about the whole arrangement would be that once he was married, Orion and Walburga were likely to leave Number 12 Grimmauld Place as Arcturus and Melania had when their son married his cousin.

Yes, they were running out of time to browbeat him into their way of thinking. Sometimes Sirius wondered what they would say if they knew that the moment he turned seventeen and inherited his share of the Black family fortune, he was out of there and intended to never speak a word to any of them ever again. Maybe he would marry a muggle, or donate whatever was left of his share after he bought himself a house and secured his future to pro-Muggle-rights groups. They would love that.

James was still looking at him.

'They're getting worse, you said so yourself,' he said.

'It's nothing I can't handle.'

'Will you "handle" it if Orion beats you again?'

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. There was a reason it had taken him so long to tell the others, and here it was. He wondered why he had ever told them at all.

'He did it on impulse. Lost control. When he stopped and realised what he had done, he was pale. He just snapped.'

'And he could snap again.'

'Then yeah, I'll handle it.'

'This is not just some "stuff" that happens, Sirius! This is not okay, it's never okay. I really don't feel comfortable knowing you're going back there and quite frankly it worries me that you're being so blasé about it.'

Sirius groaned and pushed off the covers, scooting further down the bed to where James sat doing a pretty good impression of an angry Slughorn with the colour he was turning.

James's problem was that he was pampered and spoiled and so used to getting everything he wanted. It was all fair and good when it came down to broomsticks and material goods, which his family could afford, but there were some things that he couldn't have, no matter how much he kicked up a fuss about it. He was heir to a family who loved him; a kind, generous bunch of people with hearts as big as their fortune. He couldn't understand what it was like for Sirius to grow up with his legacy, and quite frankly, Sirius didn't _want_ him to understand, because that would be a step towards a shared predicament and he wouldn't have wished his family on anyone, least of all his best friend, who would not have lasted two days with them.

'Not everything in this world is fair,' he said, making sure that James was looking him in the eye before he continued. 'It would be nice if we all had families that cared about us and tucked us in at night and kissed us goodbye before they sent us off to school for another year. But the real world doesn't work like that, and sometimes there's nothing you can do about it. This is one of those times. So let's chalk it down to "shit happens" and go get some breakfast before the first years eat it all.'

James opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and locked his jaw. Sirius was fully aware that he was asking him to just sit back and let him deal with this alone, which was like asking Snape to wash his hair or McGonagall to let them set their desks on fire. But that was the thing; it was _his_ problem, and his alone. On top of everything else, James had something of a hero complex. And of all the things he wanted, seeing his best friend safe and happy with a loving family was just something that wasn't going to happen, no matter how hard he tried to make it so.

* * *

He was staring at the back of her head for a whole ten minutes before Sirius kicked him under the table and he snapped back to reality. She had done something different with her hair, James was sure of it, though it seemed to just hang in the way it always had.

'What does he have that I don't?' he fumed quietly. Sirius just sighed and very possibly rolled his eyes - James wasn't going to look up.

'Greasy hair?'

If James thought even for a moment that Lily Evans would show some interest in him if he just neglected to wash his hair, he would have done it.

He just didn't understand how she could look down on him when other girls tried (and failed) to catch his eye, and yet she, a muggle-born, was close to Severus Snape, the Dark Arts-obsessed wannabe Death Eater.

And he had seen the way that Snape looked at her, and it made his skin crawl and his blood boil. Snape was closer to her than he could ever hope to be, and it just wasn't fair.

'Look mate, I'm sorry that she ignores you,' said Sirius, whose voice was barely a whisper above the cawing of the birds around them. 'But it's not the end of the world.'

'Padfoot, she's perfect,' James sighed. He tried to think of words to describe just _how_ perfect, but such a thing was just not possible. Even as, with a flick of her wand, she silenced her bird so flawlessly Professor Flitwick became so excited he struggled to speak.

'Then stop brooding and bloody well ask her out, before you drive me crazy,' Sirius said, turning back to his frog.

The lesson was child's play for them; they had mastered the silencing charm before Flitwick had even begun to teach it. Peter, on the other hand...

The sound reached them before the rapid expansion of his bird was noticed. Instead of silencing it, he seemed to have amplified its caws and now the bird was growing to match them.

Flitwick ran towards him in a hurry and with a flick of his wand the bird returned to normal, though now looked rather flustered (and honestly, who could blame it?).

'Less- Less _gusto_ next time, maybe, Mr. Pettigrew,' said Professor Flitwick.

Remus, his partner for that lesson, patted him consolingly on the back, but even his attention was drawn by the howls of laughter at the next table. James scowled at the two Ravenclaw boys.

'Would it be wrong of us to practice our charms on them?' asked Sirius in a low, deadly voice.

'I think the more appropriate question, Padfoot mate, would be "Do you think it's worth the detention?"'

Flitwick's detentions were often easier than others, and it took a little more effort to earn them. Most would think that the boys would take this as a challenge, but they genuinely liked Professor Flitwick and so were less apt to act up in his lessons.

'The idiot can't do anything right,' snickered one of the Ravenclaw boys.

'How did he end up in Hogwarts anyway?' laughed the other.

'Shove it, Aubrey,' snapped Remus. 'I haven't seen you cast it yet.'

The boys laughed even harder.

'Even having you as a desk mate isn't helping him, Lupin,' said Aubrey. 'I'd just give up if I were you.'

'Forget charms, Prongs,' sneered Sirius. 'I think I feel a hex coming on.'

With a jab of their wands to silence their animals to appease Flitwick, Sirius and James moved out from behind their desk.

'You know, for Ravenclaws, you two are pretty thick,' said James.

Aubrey puffed himself up and smiled confidently.

'This doesn't concern you, Potter,' he said.

'Actually, Peter is our friend,' Sirius pointed out. 'So it kind of does concern us when a couple of _dicks_ are making him feel uncomfortable.'

Aubrey seemed caught between a desire to stand up for himself and the fearful realisation that he was up against James Potter and Sirius Black. While James himself often failed to pull off intimidating when he tried, Sirius was capable of it with no effort at all, what with his tall, well-built frame and arrogant looks. And everyone in the school knew that they were heavily into Defence Against the Dark Arts and learned jinxes, hexes, and their counters just for fun.

Whatever Aubrey's retort may have been, it was stolen when Flitwick called an end to the lesson and urged them all to practise their charms for homework.

'You didn't have to do that,' said Peter as they left.

'Start standing up for yourself and maybe we won't have to,' James told him.

'I'll help you with the charm for next lesson,' Remus promised. 'We'll show them.'

'He's going to need all the help he can get.'

All four of them spun around at the sound of the hostile voice. Only Aubrey laughed at his own joke; the other Ravenclaws, even his friend from before, seemed to think that he had gone too far.

Remus threw out a hand to stop James and Sirius, and James realised that his friend also had his hand on his wand. This gave him strength, and almost immediately he raised his arm.

He wasn't sure what incantation he had shouted, and he could not discern Sirius's cry either. And Aubrey was about to laugh, having assumed that their hex had failed, when his eyes began to bulge and his cheeks puffed out.

It was rather magnificent to watch, and passing students stopped and stared as Bertram Aubrey's head expanded, and continued to expand. Both James and Sirius let out laughs of joy at the sheer irony, whilst Remus stood open-mouthed and Peter cowered behind them all.

By the time Flitwick emerged, Aubrey's head was almost twice its original size. He seemed to recognise the spell, though its casters did not, and reversed it almost immediately, instructing Aubrey's friends to take him to the hospital wing to get checked over.

'What were you _thinking_?' he squeaked, rounding on James and Sirius. The pitch of his voice rose in his anger and it took a moment or two for James to realise that oh crap, Flitwick was head of Ravenclaw. 'Double detention!'

He spluttered a little more, but seemed to be out of words and returned to his classroom shaking his head. Quiet laughter had broken out in the hallway in his wake.

'Definitely worth it,' Sirius said with a smile.

* * *

**AN** - Thanks for reading! And a huuuuge thank you to _Fea just me, Kazo Sakamari, Ranger Indecisive, RodeoTown _and_ PhoenixHopeFire_ for reviewing! I'm so glad everyone liked the last chapter. This one was just a bit of a filler too (well, half there), but I promise you the next few most definitely are not.

As always, thank you all and please review!


	10. Misery at 12 Grimmauld Place

**Year of the Wolf**

_9. Misery at 12 Grimmauld Place_

It was easier to fit in the compartments of the Hogwarts Express without school trunks. They were only gone for a couple of weeks and just could not be bothered with packing everything back up only to have to unpack it all again when they returned.

Remus faced these holidays with a muted excitement, glad not only to see his parents again, but to get away from the stress of the O.W.L.s. He slept most of the way back, still a little exhausted from the recent full moon, though he noted how much easier they were these days. For the second month running he had woken with no injuries, only the usual aches and pains that came with the transformation. And he had been so much more _aware_ of himself. It wasn't the same as keeping his mind during the transformation, but the wolf was not as intense or as angry and occasionally even listened to him.

Whatever he got the others for Christmas, it would never be enough after what they had given him for no other reason than they were his friends.

The goodbyes they exchanged when the train arrived back in London were quick and perfunctory - they would see each other again soon and if the usual schedule applied there would be owls every other day.

He ran straight into his mother's arms when he found his parents, drinking in her love as his father caught up and joined them.

'You're looking well,' she said, running her fingers through his short hair as she pulled back. 'Oh my darling, I missed you so much.'

She kissed him on the cheek before his father jovially demanded a hug and he was pulled into another, crushing embrace.

'You're growing up far too fast,' Lyall said. 'I almost didn't recognise you.'

There were days when his parents had been all he had, and though he had found three amazing best friends since then, he still craved the company of his mother and father, still appreciated all that they did to keep him and to protect him. He had the best family in the world, anyone else who claimed _they_ did was just wrong.

'We parked the car out front,' Lyall said as they turned towards the exit. 'You can tell us all about your term on the drive back.'

He saw James and the Potters behind them, and Mrs. Pettigrew disappearing through the barrier with Peter. He thought for a moment that the Blacks had already left when an audible crack nearby distracted him and all three Lupins stopped in their tracks.

Sirius closed his eyes, his head turned away from his mother, face set in a stubbornly blank expression. Walburga Black glared at him with a look of distaste and fury, the imprint of her hand still upon her son's cheek.

'You are sixteen years old!' she hissed through clenched teeth. 'Sixteen, and I am still receiving owls about your behaviour.'

Regulus stood at his brother's side and looked away, said nothing.

'Are you determined to make a fool out of your father and I, to destroy the name we uphold?'

Remus wished that Sirius would say something, but he knew Sirius Black, knew that he would never give her the satisfaction of a response.

With a cry of frustration, Walburga grasped Regulus's hand and marched towards the barrier. Orion looked at his eldest son for a moment before he grabbed him around the back of neck and pushed him forwards.

Lyall moved suddenly at Remus's side, but he reached out and grabbed his father's hand.

'Don't!' he pleaded.

'Remus-'

'You'll just make things worse for him,' he said desperately. 'I know it's not fair, but if you say something, it's not going to be you they take it out on. They already don't like the fact that he's friends with me.'

Hope held his hand tighter, and he squeezed it back. Perhaps Lyall felt what Remus felt whenever he thought about the family his friend was going home to.

'Are they like this all the time?' Lyall asked. He sounded horrified at the thought, and Remus could almost see the Ministry worker in him making enquiries.

'Sometimes worse than others, I guess,' he replied. 'But Sirius is tough. He can handle it.'

He wasn't convinced, so he knew that his father wouldn't be. But the truth was that if anything was going to be done, it was Sirius himself who had to do it. Anything they tried would only make things worse, and if it didn't, it would come back on them and Sirius would not want that to happen.

So, the Lupins remained silent and made their way towards the barrier, Remus feeling rather guilty that he was going home to such a warm environment.

* * *

_Prongs,_

_Has Padfoot been sending you owls? Who am I kidding? Of course he has. Please tell me I'm not the only one getting worried here. He's not sounding at all like himself, and I don't know what to do. We have to get him out of there for a while, even if it's just for a day or two._

_Let me know what you think,  
Moony_

James must have read and reread the letter a dozen times. He agreed with everything Moony had said, and Sirius's boring, trivial owls were worrying him too. There were no signs of anything bad occurring, but it sounded very much like their friend was going stir crazy and slowly losing his mind. It had only been two days since the start of the holidays; this was not a good sign.

He would write a reply later, when there was an owl free to take it. For now, he needed to take his mind off things before he was the one going crazy. And, he had an idea.

His father was in the hall, levitating a fallen piece of tinsel back up the wall. When he found his mother in the living room she called him over and patted the settee beside her. As he walked towards her, he saw that she had an old family photo album open on her knee and was smiling fondly at the sights before her.

'Look at this one,' she said, pointing to a photograph of a chubby baby laughing away on its mother's knee. Mrs. Potter looked younger then than she did now, her hair only slightly streaked with grey and her face much less lined. She was still beautiful, and that smile could still melt even the coldest of hearts - she must have been nothing short of stunning in her youth. 'You were only about six months old there. You see, your hair always had a mind of its own, even then.'

He smiled as baby James bounced up and down on his mother's knee. She seemed so happy in the photograph, and nothing had changed.

'Are these all photos of me?' he asked cautiously. Perhaps she was on another one of her nostalgic kicks.

'Some,' she said with a smile. 'Oh look, that was taken just after your seventh birthday.'

There seemed to be little order to the photos, and he realised that it was a collection of her favourites, all arranged neatly and lovingly on the thick pages of the album.

She turned another heavy page and a curious emotion overcame him. There, at the centre top of the page, grinned Sirius. It was taken only the previous year, at the Quidditch World Cup. James stood over his shoulder, screaming at the camera in juvenile excitement. Just below that was a photograph of all four best friends in their tent, and to the right was an image of James and Sirius taken in Diagon Alley when they were both twelve, grinning widely over Florean Fortescue's best sundaes.

Mrs. Potter's hand suddenly covered his as it rested on the page.

'Honey, tell me what's on your mind,' she said softly. 'You've been so quiet ever since you came back. Did you not enjoy the decorating? Your father and I could have done it before you came back.'

He shook his head. Decorating the house together on the first day of the holidays was almost a tradition - he'd probably have thrown a tantrum or at the very least gone in a huff if they'd done it without him.

'I was thinking...' He was careful to choose his words, because he did not want to worry his mother. 'Maybe we could invite Sirius for New Year? Remus and Peter too. We could have fireworks and a big dinner...what do you think?'

Mrs. Potter smiled.

'I think that's a lovely idea,' she agreed. 'How about we invite the Lupins and Mrs. Pettigrew too?'

'We don't have to invite the Blacks, do we?'

She laughed at the distaste upon his voice.

'Of course we don't.'

'Then that sounds good!'

He had not realised that her arm was around him until she pulled him into her side and kissed his messy hair.

'I know you're worried about him, sweetie,' she said softly. 'And I wish there was something I could do, I really do.'

James may have been fifteen years old, almost sixteen, but there was just something about a mother's embrace that made one forget just how old they were. He would always be grateful that he was so close to his parents. They showered him with so much love, and he wished far too often that he could just share some of that with his less fortunate friend.

'I think having you as a friend may almost cancel out that horrid family,' Mrs. Potter joked. 'I must say, your father and I were worried that we had spoiled you a little too much, but I am very proud of the man you have become.'

'I'm not a man yet, mum.'

She laughed again and held him tighter.

'Good. Because I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet.'

* * *

The whole, entire family. Not just Cygnus, Druella and their two least amiable daughters with their significant others, but both sets of grandparents, and even Great Aunt Cassiopeia. Every remaining living relative with the surname "Black", that's who was coming to stay for Christmas. Alphard was really the only one he could stomach being in a room with for more than five minutes - how was he to last all Christmas with the whole lot of them?

He had hidden in his room for most of the holidays so far, leaving only for meals and the occasional lecture of how he was expected to behave himself and be polite - _yes, Sirius, even to Lucius Malfoy_ - and generally be an heir worthy of the Black name. And he had so far stayed out of trouble, had even resisted the urge to undo Kreacher's decorating and replace it with his own. Until he had sought peace and quiet in the drawing room, of all places, and caught sight of the hole in the tapestry where Andromeda's name once was.

_I wish you were coming,_ he thought to himself. _Not that I'd wish our family upon anyone, but these things were always more tolerable when you were around._

'Sirius!'

He rolled his eyes at the sound of his name. What now? What had he done that they had taken issue with? He was pretty sure he had been holding his breath as he eyed his own name on the tapestry, so it couldn't have been that. He was still alive though, surely that counted against him?

Orion sat at the long kitchen table as Walburga fussed about in the background with Kreacher at her heel. There was an open letter on the table in front of him and he looked up from it only to cast a vague look at his son as he entered.

'Sit.' He gestured to a chair at the opposite side of the table.

'I'd rather stand, if it's all the same,' Sirius said. Sitting would mean accepting that his father was in charge and after four years of open rebellion and eleven of a slightly subtler vein, he wasn't about to start bending the knee now.

'Suit yourself. I have a letter here-'

'I can see that.'

'Enough of your cheek!' Orion's voice was hard now. He was a quiet man, one of very few words, but he did know how to control his voice. 'You will show me respect; I am your father.'

Orion waited a moment, perhaps for an apology, but he wasn't going to get one.

'It's from the Potters.' Sirius swallowed. They would never send anything that would get him into trouble, but his father was evidently not pleased with the content of their letter, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered to address it. 'They want you to stay for the New Year.'

At this, Sirius's spirits sharply rose, but he tried not to let it show. New Year with the Potters would be wonderful. Any time at all would be, really. If the family were staying for the entire holidays (he had not dared ask), then it would be a nice reprieve for sure...

'Can I?'

Orion looked up at him, his steely grey eyes betraying no emotion.

'I expect the half-blood will be there?'

Sirius's fists clenched at his side. He would not have let a random Hogwarts student get away with talking about Remus in such a derogatory tone, but if he was to stand any chance of getting out of there, even if just for one night, he needed to play nice.

'Probably not,' he said. 'He has his own family, probably has his own plans.'

'As do you.'

The light was slowly dwindling. Orion wasn't going to allow it.

'Would it not be rude to turn down the invitation of a respectable pure blood family such as the Potters?'

'You have responsibilities to your own family, Sirius,' said Orion. 'You will be of age soon and you have not yet shown the required..._mindset _expected of the heir of this family.'

So that was it. He wasn't going. He was doomed to spend the rest of the holidays with them.

'Speaking of which,' Orion continued, carefully folding the letter before handing it to Kreacher, perhaps to be destroyed. 'How are things at school?' To say that Sirius was shocked to hear this would have been an understatement. Neither of his parents had ever shown any interest in school, or in any other part of his life that didn't directly involve them. 'I understand that you are doing extremely well in your classes, but how about outside the classroom? Are there any girls in your life?'

This, Sirius was sure, was the most awkward conversation he had ever had in his life. What did he tell him? That if Orion thought he was still a virgin and discriminated based on blood, then he was rather deluded? Perhaps he'd like to know about the time he'd been caught snogging some muggle girl in front of a movie theatre and been chased down the street by her father (James had loved that one)? He had already kicked up a storm when he found out about his posters.

'None you'd approve of, I'm sure,' he answered with a grin.

'Bellatrix married into the Lestranges,' Orion reminded him. 'Narcissa is uniting our family with the Malfoys - what are you doing for this family?'

He wanted to say "trying to pretend I'm not a part of it", but didn't think it wise to wind him up even further.

'I'm only sixteen,' he reminded his father.

'And you need to start thinking about your future. Your mother and I can always arrange something for you, just remember that.'

The silence that fell told him that the conversation was over, no further questions. He kicked every step on his way up to his room, fuming internally. Not only had his father taken away his only chance of having an enjoyable holiday, but he had threatened to set him up with someone. There wasn't a single girl in his family or any that they approved off that he would be happy to marry. He didn't even want to get married, not yet. He was far too young and there was a war going on, one he was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore.

Regulus's door was ajar when he reached their floor and he decided, perhaps foolishly, that he wanted some company. Regulus had been quiet since they had returned, but he had not shown any open animosity towards him.

Pushing the door open, he stepped into the uncomfortably green room. Just as Sirius was proud to be a Gryffindor, Regulus was proud of being a Slytherin. Anyone who did not already know that they were related would never have guessed it, stepping into both their rooms. They certainly wouldn't have guessed that they were brothers.

Regulus was not in his room, and Sirius sighed heavily. This house just felt so closed-in sometimes.

He had turned to leave when he saw them, stuck to the wall above the bed beneath that stupid Black family crest Regulus had spent an entire summer painting. Little newspaper cuttings, some with moving pictures.

He moved closer to them, leaned over the bed to get a better look. With every word, his heart sank farther and farther into the pit of his stomach. They were all about Voldemort, about the 'pure-blood' movement and the Death Eaters. But it was not just the content, it was what the entire collection symbolised: it was a shrine.

'What are you doing?'

Sirius turned, blood pounding in his ears.

'What is this?' he demanded. 'What is all this?' He had pulled one off the wall and held it out as evidence of some wrongdoing.

'That's none of your business!' Regulus said as he snatched the clipping from his hand.

Sirius didn't know what to say. he couldn't believe that his little brother was collecting this stuff, that he looked up to this so-called "Dark Lord". It made him feel sick, made him want to tear each and every clipping off the wall, and the Slytherin banners too for good measure.

'This is my room, you have no right to be in here!'

Something dawned upon him. A horrifying realisation, constricting his lungs as Regulus returned the piece of paper to its place on the wall.

'You want to join him, don't you?' he asked. Why he had asked, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that he didn't really want to know the answer. 'You're planning on becoming a Death Eater, aren't you?'

'Get out of my room!'

Regulus was red in the face, pushed Sirius from his bed.

'You have no idea what you're doing!' Sirius shouted. 'This isn't some "great honour", it's not some noble cause, it's genocide in motion, and you really want to contribute to that?'

'GET OUT!' Regulus screamed, and he grabbed his brother's shirt in his fists, threw him out onto the landing with strength that surprised Sirius. 'STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!'

The door slammed with a painful finality. Little Regulus, a Death Eater. It wasn't even the shame that crippled him. He had lost. Regulus had lost. He was one of them, and he had taken it a step further.

When Sirius collapsed on his own bed, he felt as though he were mourning the death of someone close. Regulus had always been his parents' son, had always followed their beliefs without question. But he was just a naïve little kid, soft enough to believe the things his parents told him. He wasn't cruel. It was so easy to hate his parents, but Regulus...he was just a kid. Fourteen years old, and already aspiring to be a Death Eater.

He didn't emerge from his room until Walburga called up the stairs when dinner was ready, and he waited for Regulus's footsteps to disappear. When he emerged, he saw that there was now a sign upon Regulus's bedroom door, handwritten and carefully displayed.

_Do Not Enter_  
_Without the Express Permission of_  
_Regulus Arcturus Black_

* * *

**AN - **Thanks for reading! And a huge thank you to _redheadleela, PhoenixFireHope_ and _Buttermilch_ for reviewing; I always appreciate feedback!

As always, please review and let me know what you think!


	11. Black

**Year of the Wolf**

_10. Black_

Regulus didn't speak to him for days. Not that Sirius had anything to say to him. It was his own fault, really, for thinking that the holidays couldn't possibly get much worse.

'Thank you, Regulus dear,' cooed Walburga as her youngest son helped her place the last of the cushions in the drawing room. 'Sirius, are you actually going to help? Or are you just going to stand there making the place look untidy?'

Sirius shrugged in a non-committal way. Anything he did help with, she'd just have Regulus re-do. It was easier just to stand there in the corner and do nothing. Her responding glare was softened by the appearance of Kreacher with a tray of refreshments and she lowered herself onto the nearby settee.

'Thank you, Kreacher, my sweet,' she said as she helped herself to a cup of tea, returning to her disapproving stare after the first sip. 'If you're not going to make yourself useful, why don't you sort yourself out? You look horrendous. Comb your hair and change out of that horrific outfit!'

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing and felt a little offended. He thought he had dressed rather respectably today, but obviously not.

'Bellatrix will be stopping by soon,' said Orion as he entered the room. 'The others will be arriving later. Mother and father won't make it until tomorrow morning. Have you heard from Alphard?'

'He will be arriving early tomorrow,' said Walburga. 'Dreadfully unreliable that man, he was supposed to arrive with Cygnus.'

Orion studied Sirius closely as he passed, and he tried not to meet his father's judgemental eye.

'Did you shave this morning?' he asked. Sirius nodded. 'Did you comb your hair?' Another nod, and the biting back of sarcasm. 'You need it cut, it's getting far too long.'

'Lucius's hair is long,' Sirius pointed out. 'Lots of wizards grow their hair long - mine's short in comparison.' It was true - it didn't even reach his shoulders. It was hardly much longer than Regulus's.

'Lucius looks elegant. You, on the other hand, look like a delinquent.'

'I _am_ a delinquent.'

Orion's eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

'Don't start with me today, boy,' he warned.

Sirius shook his head and closed his eyes. The family wasn't even here yet and he'd already had enough.

'They are coming for _you_,' Walburga reminded him bitterly. 'This is your opportunity to show them all that you are the worthy heir of this family. I expect you to behave yourself, to keep your opinions to yourself and generally just keep your mouth shut and not embarrass us, if that isn't too much to ask.'

He slumped back against the wall, clutching his arms. There was a renewed tremor in his hands, like something was rattling round inside of him, desperate to get out.

'I don't even want to be here,' he said. 'Nobody else wants me here either. Why didn't you just let me stay at Hogwarts?'

Walburga's cup hit the saucer with an audible clink in the silence that descended. He even heard Regulus exhale slowly.

'Orion, darling, you take this,' she said, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Getting him to do her dirty work. So typical. Orion gripped his son by the shoulder and pushed him into the centre of the room.

'You have a duty to your family!' he seethed. 'You have a duty to our name. You will not cower away from it in that school. You embarrassed us enough with your Sorting, you will not further shame our name by shying away from what is expected of you.'

'And what exactly is expected of me, _father_?' He embraced the fury, let loose the thing that clawed for freedom. 'To marry well and raise little racist pureblood brats like Regulus?'

'You leave your brother out of this!' Walburga roared, rising to her feet. 'He is a much better son than you, he respects his family and knows what is due of him.'

'Oh, I know what is due of me. I'm supposed to blindly hate others and take some pureblood toff as my wife or risk being married to my cousin like the two of you. My condolences, by the way, Orion.'

He felt the impact of the strike through his entire body. His cheek burned, even his neck ached from the force of the slap. Something warm trickled down his cheek - his father's ring had broken the skin.

'GO TO YOUR ROOM!' Walburga screeched. 'GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!'

Where was James, to be proud of him, he wondered as he stormed up the stairs? Because he knew he should have felt proud at that, felt that it was worth it (and indeed, he resolved to not wipe the blood from his cheek), but he felt little other than the beast that swirled in the nothing within his chest.

* * *

He was hiding in the drawing room again when he heard Bellatrix arrive and head straight to the kitchen. Again, he stared at Andromeda's name, perhaps believing that if he wished it hard enough he would appear in her house and spend the holiday with the Tonks family instead of the Blacks.

'Still caught in the past, little baby cousin?'

The cold voice chilled him to the bone but he swallowed the emotion and turned to face his cousin.

'Hello Bellatrix,' he greeted politely. 'Dear me, you look even older than last time we met - I hope you're not stressing yourself out too much.'

She laughed that cruel, horrible laugh and took a step towards him.

'You're lucky your name is still on this tree,' she whispered. He could feel her hair upon his cheek. 'You are not worthy of the name of Black.'

Finding courage somewhere in the hands of the beast, he smiled.

'But you are very worthy, Bella. You and Narcissa. Andromeda, not so much, but you already know that, don't you?'

Bellatrix stepped back suddenly, her lips tight, hand tracing something beneath her robes - her crooked wand, no doubt. Crooked like her moral compass.

She seemed to measure him up, sneering at his appearance and he knew it had nothing to do with the way he looked: after another argument with his mother he had found himself in a pair of black trousers and an old white shirt that wouldn't have looked out of place in Victorian times - while he would not disagree that it suited him very well and he did look rather smart, it was an outfit his parents had forced him into so style and how dashing he may look was just beside the point.

'You are an embarrassment to us all,' said Bellatrix, tilting her head back snobbishly. 'You are the first Black in known memory to be Sorted into a house other than Slytherin. You consort with mudbloods and half-bloods and blood traitors; the only thing Black about you is your looks.'

'Oh, bestow sympathy upon me,' he laughed. She didn't seem to have a point other than putting him down. It _was_ a favourite pastime of his relatives'. 'I suppose you're going to give me a lecture about how I need to marry well? Did they put you up to this?'

'I would not bother with you were you not the heir of this family,' she told him. 'I think you are a lost cause, but my aunt and uncle seem to still believe in you. They are the only reason I am still civil with you.'

He wished that she wouldn't be. He wished that she would give him a reason, any reason at all, to draw his wand and defend himself, to give her an appearance to match the soul her body sheltered. But, he realised as he ran his hands over the pockets of his trousers, he appeared to have left his wand in his bedroom so it was useless anyway.

Without so much as a smile or a farewell, he turned away from the tapestry and made to leave, but her hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist. Forcibly, she turned him, her free hand on the back of his head.

'You see those holes, dear Sirius?' she spat, pointing his field of vision towards the tapestry. 'That's what's going to happen to you. Sooner or later, they'll see that you're not worth space you occupy.'

And there she was, the real Bellatrix Lestrange, not the faux-polite little rich girl she presented herself as on such occasions.

'Oh, I'm so lucky you're married, Bella,' he chuckled. 'I think I'd have to blast a hole in my own head if they'd forced me to walk down the aisle with you.'

He was spun around so quickly that he hit the wall behind him as he stumbled, and when he turned to face her, her wand was pointed threateningly at his chest.

'Do you remember our last conversation, little cousin?' she sang. 'Remember what I promised? How long do you think they will hold out before they turn your education to me? I know spells that would have you wet yourself in fear, I know things your silly little mind couldn't even begin to comprehend, you worthless blood traitor!'

To his surprise, Sirius smiled. He wasn't afraid of her, but she did have a knack of making one feel threatened. And it was fairly silly of him to still be standing there, to be honest, given the lack of wand.

'Things your precious Dark Lord taught you?' he teased. Immediately, he saw that he had hit a nerve. The newspaper clippings on Regulus's wall were still too fresh in his mind, and he didn't care if she was a Death Eater, didn't care at all - she'd never attack the heir of her beloved family. 'You talk about honour, well where is the honour in joining him? I have honour, and I have pride, and you are nothing but scum, you and your precious Vol-'

'_Crucio_!'

The curse hit him so suddenly he did not have time to breathe. Pain, unlike anything he thought possible, hit him with an unrelenting blow. His skin was on fire, his flesh was melting into the bone. He barely heard the sound of his own scream as he fell to the floor, and his vision was a sheet of white. It was agony in its purest, most undiluted form and he wanted it to end, wanted everything to end, just wanted the pain to stop, wanted to die and leave his broken body behind.

Suddenly, it was gone, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. He could breathe again, could see again. Even the touch of his shirt against his skin felt heavenly, the soft plush carpet like a bed of clouds. His limbs did ache, no doubt from the way his body had twisted against the curse, but it barely felt like pain.

'-please, Bella!'

The first thing he saw was his cousin's smile, and the horror on his brother's face as he hung off her arm. She smiled wider and turned to Regulus, putting an arm around him now that he had stopped tugging on her sleeve. It was with this smile that she left, leading the younger Black sibling away with her.

Sirius stared now at the only two people remaining in the room: his parents. Orion shook his head slowly in dismay, casting him a look that said quite plainly 'This is your fault' before he followed Bellatrix and Regulus.

Walburga, to his surprise, walked towards him, and he pushed feebly against the floor, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. With one hand, she hauled him to his feet and looked at him as though she were judging every inch of his being.

'Now you've went and ruined your outfit,' she scolded.

'M-my outfit?' he stammered, surprised that he had found the strength to speak, he seemed caught in some form of shock. 'Mother, she...'

'You have to learn, Sirius,' she told him in a quiet, venomous voice. 'You've had this coming for years. Now go upstairs and sort yourself out.'

There was no love in her voice, no concern or sympathy. She treated the house elf with more love and respect than her own son. And that weight he had been carrying sank right into the pit of his stomach as he staggered up the stairs, breaking into a run towards the top.

Bellatrix... She was a horrible excuse for a human being. He was probably not the first victim of her use of an Unforgivable, and he wouldn't be the last; that did not shock him. And really, after all these years he should not have been so shocked by the lack of concern shown by his parents. But it had never hurt like this, never felt like his heart had been ripped out and used for Quidditch practise.

In many ways, it hurt more than the curse that had hit him.

He sat, wordless, on his bed, not even thinking about straightening his clothes or fixing his hair. A little while later, he moved to the window, his mind blank but for the hurt and the realisation that this gathering he had found himself a part of, these people...they weren't his family.

Through the window he saw Bellatrix walk down the street below, her cloak billowing behind her. The anger returned, bolstered a new-found determination that blossomed within.

The bag he had brought back from Hogwarts was lucky enough to have had an undetectable extension charm placed upon it to aid their sneaking food from the kitchens, so he found it quite easy to empty his wardrobe of clothing he would lament losing and shove it all into the bag. It took barely fifteen minutes for him to retrieve everything of personal value from his room and shove his wand into his pocket. And with one last, final look around the room, checking that he had not forgotten a thing, he slammed the door shut behind him and hurried down the stairs.

Voices drifted up from the basement kitchen; loud laughter and conversation.

'Where are you going?'

He was almost to the front door when his brother's voice called out.

'Sirius-' The young boy's eyes widened as he caught sight of the bag. Sirius doubted that his expression detracted from the general image of his intent, and he turned away from him without a word and took another step towards the door. 'You're running away, aren't you?'

'I can't take this any more,' Sirius said, turning back. His voice sounded angry and tearful, and he noted that it was a rather appropriate summary of the maelstrom that was currently raging in his head and in his chest. 'I don't belong here. Nobody is going to care that I'm gone.'

'Have you even asked any of us how we feel?' Regulus demanded, sounding increasingly testy.

'I don't need to! You saw what she did, and neither of them cared, Mother just said I deserved it. Do you think that too?'

Regulus stared at him silently for a few seconds.

'I think you're hurt. I think you're confused and scared and you don't know what you're doing.'

Sirius laughed, a deep, mirthless laugh.

'For once in my life, Reg, I think I do.'

He couldn't stay, not even for a minute. Leaving was both the easiest and the most difficult thing he had ever done. There was such a finality to the act; one he had been so unwilling to commit to before now. But what was the point in staying? His parents didn't love him, didn't care about him, and his brother was on a path that was sure to separate them forever. There was nothing left for him here.

'I know where you're going.' He didn't know why he stopped again. Maybe he thought that Regulus could talk him out of this? If his younger brother had promised never to join the Death Eaters, to maybe give Muggles and Muggle-borns a chance, then maybe, just maybe, he would have stayed. For Regulus. 'You're going to his, aren't you? You're going to Potter's?'

The truth was that he didn't have a clue where he was going or what he was going to do. He just wanted to put as much distance between himself and his family as possible.

'It's always been him, hasn't it?' Regulus demanded. 'You've always chosen him over me, always- _I'M_ YOUR BROTHER! Not him! Me!'

His face was turning red, his hands were clenched at his side and he stamped a foot into the ground. A temper-tantrum if Sirius had ever seen one.

'You always cared about him more than you cared about me! More than you cared about us! We're your family, Sirius, you're not supposed to turn your back on us!'

'YOU'RE THE ONES WHO TURNED YOUR BACK ON _ME_!' Sirius roared, rage pounding through him, his heart beating in his ears. Orion and Walburga emerged from the kitchen, their expressions a mix of fury and confusion. When he spoke again, he addressed them all. 'You never cared about me, just what I meant to this family. You want me to be someone I'm not, you want me to support things I am firmly against, to believe things I think are wrong. You tell me all the time what a disappointment I am, how I'm a disgrace to the family and I deserve anything bad that happens to me. Well guess what? The disgrace is making this easy for you.' He looked at Orion and Walburga with what he hoped was an expression that conveyed utmost contempt and hatred. 'I hate you all. You and your stupid, cruel, archaic views, your Dark Magic worship and your closed-mindedness.' It was like venom was being sucked from an old wound; he had kept all this bottled up for years, had dared not say it outright and it was _glorious_ to finally get it off his chest at last. 'I'm leaving, and I really don't care what you do.'

Orion and Walburga pushed past Regulus, and Sirius drew his wand, pointing it directly at his parents. They stopped, staring warily at the shaking hand that held it before looking him in the eye.

'Just calm down, Sirius,' Orion said. He, at least, looked a little concerned. 'Put your wand down, and your bag, and let's talk.'

'It's too late for that,' he said. Perhaps there was regret in his voice. He was too choked up to discern anything, just wanted this to be over already.

'You walk out that door,' Walburga said threateningly, held back by her husband, 'and you better not be planning on coming back. You'll be dead to us, you hear me? You leave now and you will never be welcome in this home or in this family again!'

Trust old Walburga to make this easy for him.

'You don't understand,' he said in a forlorn and breathy voice. 'That's what I want.'

He turned as he lowered his wand, opened the front door even with his mother screeching behind him, and stepped out into the cold December air.

* * *

**AN -** Well, he's out of there! This was so challenging to get right - I had all these little details in my head, so it seemed easy but stitching them all together while keeping with my personal characterisations of Orion and Walburga was a little tricky. This was actually originally the first part of a chapter called 'A Tale of Two Mothers', but it made more sense to split it here, so I hope you enjoy it as is!  
Thanks to _Kazo Sakamari, TimeEnough_ and the _Guest_s for the reviews on the last chapter! I still love to hear what you have to say so keep them coming!  
As usual, thank you and please review! :)


	12. The Grove

**Year of the Wolf**

_11. The Grove_

The Muggle world continued as it always had. Around him, families emerged from cafés and restaurants, individuals stumbled from closing shops, arms laden with last-minute Christmas purchases. The sun had begun to set, light fading quickly. A few snowflakes fell to join the ice on the street but still London carried on as usual.

Sirius didn't know how far he walked, only that he stopped when he was sure that nobody was following him, and that they would never find him. It was on a bridge that he rested, legs dangling over the edge through the railings, with the traffic rumbling past behind him. It was cold, damn cold, and he wore nothing over his shirt. His winter cloak was inside his bag but he couldn't be bothered to dig it out. The cold helped, a little. It stung his cheeks, brought some feeling to the numbness within.

He sat there until the street lamps flickered on and the sun sank closer to the horizon. He didn't think about anything in particular, didn't feel the relief he had expected. He just felt cold and hungry and empty.

With trembling hands, he pulled a small mirror out of one of the pockets of his bag. Gazing at his reflection, he saw that he looked much older than he had that morning, with darkening circles beneath his eyes and a general look of sorrow about him. A few snowflakes clung to his black hair, and his cheeks flushed red against the chill. Carefully, he touched a finger to the angry cut on his cheek, wincing at the momentary sting as it made contact. Always the face. He almost laughed.

Suddenly, his reflection vanished, replaced momentarily with the edge of a Puddlemere United poster and a portion of the head of a black-haired, hazel-eyed boy with glasses. Sirius quickly covered the mirror and shoved it back into his bag. James appeared not to have seen him.

His throat tightened as the air grew a little colder. He missed James, and Remus, and Peter. He missed Marlene and her empty flirtation, Mary and her fierce Quidditch spirit. He even missed Evans and the way she could make James smile just by being in the same room. He missed McGonagall and Slughorn, missed the Hogwarts dormitory.

And suddenly, he had a plan.

Hoisting his bag onto his shoulders, he walked far enough down the road that there were no Muggles about, and raised his wand arm into the road.

Seconds later, with a bang that made him jump, the Knight Bus sped around the corner and came to a stop right in front of him. The bus may not have been able to go to the school, he wouldn't know, but it would go to Hogsmeade no doubt. He could explain to the teachers what had happened, or even just say nothing at all and hide in the dormitory for the rest of the holidays. The peace and quiet would be most welcomed, and maybe he could get all this nasty stuff out of his system before the others returned.

'Evening, young sir,' greeted the conductor. 'Just you is it?' Sirius nodded. 'Very well, where are we off to?'

'The Grove,' he said automatically. 'Upper Maplethorpe, just outside Winchester.'

It didn't even hit him that he had given the wrong destination until he had paid and sat down and the bus was on its way. And there was little energy left in him to repair his mistake, so he just lay back on the bed, realising that this was probably all some horrible dream anyway and none of it would really matter.

The conductor was deep in conversation with another passenger and didn't trouble him, but the swaying of the bus and the thoughts that swirled inside his increasingly foggy mind were enough to keep him awake.

Were they looking for him right now? Would he arrive at his destination to find his entire family there, demanding that he return home? Would he be strong enough to refuse if they were? He liked to think so, but he didn't feel so strong right now.

'Upper Maplethorpe,' called the conductor a little while later, as the bus trundled down a quiet country lane. He thanked both the conductor and the driver quietly as he alighted, and waited until the bus disappeared with another bang before he stepped up to the gate before him.

The Potters' home was a rather modest place of residence for their wealth. While technically a mansion, it more closely resembled a large cottage, with expansive grounds and a charming maple grove at the back. Indeed, the plaque on the gate read "The Grove", and he had many memories of chasing James through it, laughing as they zipped between the trees on their broomsticks.

Snow was falling in Hampshire, and a soft white powder had settled over the hedges and on the roof.

As he made his way up the path to the front door, startled momentarily by the impish giggling of a gnome stalking a small rabbit, he saw that there were still lights on inside, though the curtains were drawn and he could not see in.

It was at the door, a fist raised to knock, that he felt his strength fail him. What would he say? What was he to do? It was instinct that had brought him here, and now guilt told him to walk away, to not trouble them with his problems and just find somewhere else. If he called back the Knight Bus, he was sure he could get up to Ilkley and stay with Andromeda and Ted - of course, they had the baby and he'd very likely just be intruding upon their Christmas.

Gathering what little strength remained, he knocked smartly on the door. If they didn't hear, if the door didn't open, then he'd find somewhere else, as cold and hungry as he was.

But the lock clicked, and the door opened, and there stood Mrs. Potter with a smile that faded quickly when she laid eyes upon him.

'Sirius!'

Almost immediately, he began to regret imposing himself upon her and her family.

Without another word, she pulled him into the house and into her arms, the door slamming shut behind him and his bag falling to the floor. The warmth within the house was nothing compared to the warmth within her arms, and he hugged her back greedily, desperate for every last drop of it. And something strange began inside of him. As the pressure in his sinuses returned, every last emotion that had been roused by the confrontation of that day tried to force itself out of him, it seemed, through his nose and through his eyes. And suddenly, he was crying into her shoulder, basking in the affection she showered him with. It almost hurt, this fire to his frozen senses.

'Oh, my darling boy.'

She held him tighter as he gripped the back of her dress, and suddenly he was not sixteen, he was six, and he was alone and afraid and desperate for love, affection, anything that would make it all better, that would make up for the last sixteen years. He had never felt anything like this before, had never been held like a child, like someone really, truly cared enough about him that they wanted to chase all the bad feelings away.

'It's okay,' Mrs. Potter soothed. One hand was in his hair, the other gently rubbing his back, her lips close enough to his ear that he heard her whispers clearly. 'It's okay, honey, it's okay.'

He was not even ashamed of the blatant weakness he displayed, just held tightly on to her as the tears continued to come with great heaving sobs.

When they finally pulled apart, he felt incredibly weak and drained, like there was nothing left in him, like the shock of his parents' indifference had just melted away.

Her hands were on his cheeks now and she brushed his tears away quickly, evidently as aware of the others behind her as he was. For a moment, she thumbed the circles beneath his eyes, careful not to touch the cut on his cheek, and he felt a second wave, felt fresh tears spill out over her hands as his eyes scrunched shut and lips curled back from emotion not yet expended. He had opened the floodgates and there was no stopping it now.

'Come on,' she urged quietly. 'Let's go sit down.' He nodded before she pulled him in for one last, brief hug and turned momentarily, her business face on. 'James, can you take his bag upstairs please? Just put it in your room. Honey, get him a hot drink; the poor dear's shivering.'

He felt James retrieve the bag at his feet, but he could not look at him. Perhaps he felt no embarrassment now, but he would later and it would be better for them both if they did not lock eyes.

The comforting heat of the roaring fire hit him immediately as Mrs. Potter led him through to the sitting room and over to the settee and he sat halfway down. She disappeared for a moment then returned with a blanket, which she placed around his shoulders and began to rub his arms through it once she was seated beside him.

'What on Earth were you thinking?' she chastised, though her voice was still gentle and kind. 'Out there with no cloak in this weather. You'll catch your death of cold!'

Sirius did not flinch. Her calm remonstrations were welcomed, like balm to the wounds left by the harsh words he was so used to. These weren't born from a desire to hurt or punish him, but from genuine worry and concern.

Mr. Potter returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, which he forced into Sirius's hands. The ceramic was warm to the touch and chased life into his frozen fingers. Not another word was said as he sipped at the beverage, before downing it in great gulps that burned his tongue and throat. Perhaps Mr. Potter had mixed a potion into it, because it warmed every inch of him and gave him back just a little of his strength.

Emotions, it turned out, were very exhausting things. He felt like he had run a marathon, when really he had just been fighting back the horrible sticky mess he had dissolved into after his mother's damning words.

James returned, pausing in the doorway. Perhaps against his better judgement, Sirius looked up and saw that his friend was just as white as he himself had appeared in the mirror, and he wasn't full of the joy he was so used to seeing upon their reunions. When James moved, he chose the empty space beside Sirius on the settee, to his right. But he still said nothing, though it looked very much like he wanted to.

Mr. Potter took the empty mug away and pulled a footstool up to the settee to sit upon when he returned.

'If you don't want to talk,' said Mrs. Potter, her hand grasping his tightly, 'we aren't going to force you. It looks like you've been through enough tonight, darling, but whatever it is, whatever brought you here, we want to help.'

Mr. Potter nodded in agreement, and maybe it was this that finally gave him the push to speak.

He told them everything, every little snippet that would be of some relevance, as though he needed to justify what he had done. It was an unpleasant history, from Andromeda's encouragement of his independent thinking, through her disowning and how proud he was that he ended up in Gryffindor, that there was finally proof that he was different to them all. He took them through the years of showing his pride in his difference and his parents' increasingly hostile attitude towards him. When he ended with the words that had carved out the part of him that kept him with them, he didn't think he could speak another word.

'-I just couldn't stay there. I'd had enough.'

James hit his wrist against his knee in a repetitive motion, and Mr. Potter rested his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his nose and mouth, his eyes closed. He felt the hand that had ceased rubbing his arm at the mention of the Cruciatus curse move again, and the grip that had numbed his recently-thawed fingers loosened.

'You are worth a hundred of them,' Mr. Potter said. He had moved his hands and reached over to squeeze Sirius's knee. 'Walburga was right, they do not deserve you - you deserve a far better family than the Blacks.' There was a tone of bitter anger to his voice that Sirius had never heard before. 'I am sorry that you have had to live with this.'

"Sorry about your family" was a sentiment he heard often, but it had never really meant much to him before now.

'But you don't have to any more.' It was James that spoke, and his voice was as cold as the winter outside. 'You are _never_ going back there. _Ever_!'

He barked these last words with a bite of terrifying fury, and he looked to each of his parents with a dangerous look in his eyes, as though he dared them to disagree. He had never seen James quite so worked up, had never thought him capable of anger to this degree.

Mrs. Potter just smiled and moved her right hand to Sirius's hair.

'No,' she agreed. 'This is your home now. We're your family.'

It was what he had wanted, for so many years, yet now that it was here, it felt like he had been missing the obvious all this time.

'You always have been,' he said gratefully.

Mrs. Potter made a sound quite like a gasp and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his temple. He didn't care that his best friend was sitting beside him and could see all this - he had never felt a mother's love quite like this before and he couldn't get enough of it. He just wanted her to hold him some more and tell him that it was all going to be okay, and he didn't care if that made him a child or a baby or whatever, he just knew that he needed this, that he was owed it for all the years of it that he had missed out on.

* * *

James's wrist hurt from all the writing. Fast scribbles, barely legible, but he'd managed to get the letters written - one to Remus, one to Peter, and one to Andromeda which he sent with Sirius's owl when she arrived.

It had been a funny sort of night. There he was, just working on school stuff, when the doorbell rang and his curiosity got the better of him. He had never expected to see his best friend crying into his mother's shoulder, and quite frankly the sight had frightened him. The closest he had ever seen Sirius to crying was in the Shrieking Shack, and even then he had been too stubborn to succumb. Tears of laughter were another thing, but Sirius was very closed emotionally, preferring to internalise things and hide with his thoughts when he felt that he was close to breaking.

James had always been rather open emotionally, so it was strange to him. Remus was like a stubborn machine of normalcy, shrugging off everything like it was no big deal, but James had thrown many a big tantrum in his childhood and had just grown used to being open with what he felt, with talking things through when he had a problem.

And he decided then that he never ever wanted to see Sirius Black cry again, even if that meant he was to dedicate his entire life to making sure that it didn't happen. It was just too horrible, just felt too wrong.

On top of everything else, he had never seen his parents so furious. His mother had wanted to go to the Ministry and make the Blacks - or at the very least Bellatrix - pay. She had calmed when he explained that he knew Sirius better than her, and what he would want more than anything would be for this whole mess to just blow over and for him to never have to see his family again - if she went to the Ministry, even with their contacts it would mean going through the courts possibly for months, putting Sirius in direct contact with the Blacks as they dragged his name and reputation through the mud in their defence. She had agreed and hugged him, and told him in a proud sort of voice that she often forgot how mature he had become.

Mr. Potter, on the other hand, wanted to march down to Grimmauld Place and hex every last member of the Black family, but James didn't think that would help much either (as much as he wanted to join him).

They always had cared for Sirius's well-being just as much as they cared for his. It was a good thing, really, because Orion and Walburga had hardly seemed to bother.

He was sitting on his bed by the window, thinking about what had just happened, when Sirius entered his room, hair still damp from the bath Mrs. Potter had forced him to take. He looked a damn sight better than he did when he first arrived; there was a little more colour to his cheeks, and speaking of cheeks, that horrible red cut had been completely healed.

'Thanks for...' he started to say, one hand shoved in his pyjama pocket, the other waving carelessly.

'Don't mention it,' James said.

'I'm sorry about all that,' Sirius continued with an embarrassed little sigh. 'I just...lost it.'

James shook his head, hoping that it conveyed the fact that he never, ever had to be sorry for something like that.

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the duvet.

'Your mum's brilliant,' he said quietly. James was inclined to agree. 'Your dad too. You're very lucky.'

He wanted to say that it wasn't luck, but he didn't entirely agree with that, not after knowing the kind of people Sirius had grown up with.

'Well now you're lucky too,' he told him. 'She meant what she said about family.'

A smile appeared, lighting up Sirius's entire face. It was as genuine as James had ever seen and he found that he was smiling too.

With another sigh, a little less loaded this time, Sirius lay back on the bed.

'You'd be well within your rights to say "I told you so",' he said.

James swallowed and looked down into his hands.

'You know what, mate?' he said. 'I really don't want to. I'm glad you're out of there, that's all.'

There were footsteps in the hallway outside his room, and his mother appeared at the door a moment later.

'Oh,' she said in faint surprise, pausing for a moment before she entered. 'So this is how we're sleeping tonight? Very well, under the covers.'

Sirius looked at him, but James just rolled his eyes and wriggled his way under the duvet.

'Have you both brushed your teeth?'

'Yes, mum.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, mum!'

'Just checking.'

His bed was fortunately big enough for two to share comfortably, even at their age, though he anticipated a duvet tug-of-war if it got chilly during the night. And just tonight, maybe he wouldn't try so hard to win.

Mrs. Potter pulled the duvet up over both of them and leaned over the bed to pull the curtains shut, blocking out the moonlight. She then reached over to pluck his glasses from his face and took the opportunity to kiss him on the nose.

'Mum!' he complained, squashing himself back into his pillow. She smiled in amusement. He never complained about her kisses, but he was lying next to his best friend here - she knew better than to take the twisted face personally.

'Thank you,' Sirius said in a voice that was almost a whisper. 'For everything. For letting me stay, and for...'

He shifted uncomfortably and James suddenly felt a little less embarrassed. There was more he wanted to say, he knew it, but he too was lying next to his best friend, and appearances _were_ appearances.

'Don't be so silly, love,' she said, placing a hand on his cheek and looking down at him with the same softness to her eyes that she often gazed at her son with. 'You'll always have a home here.'

And she bent down and kissed his forehead before dousing the candle at the bedside and leaving them to sleep.

James expected Sirius to say something when they were alone, but he remained silent and unmoving. It was so unlike their sleepovers of the summer, where they would often just pretend to sleep and then sneak out when his parents were in bed. They never got up to much more than they did in the daytime, but there was an exciting edge to the usual activities when they should have been somewhere else.

With his mind too full to sleep, James stared at the ceiling, wondering what happened now. Would the Blacks just leave Sirius with them? Would it interfere with school at all? He hoped that the others would receive his letters in time - he couldn't bear the thought of Sirius waking to no presents on Christmas day after all that had happened. There was his, of course, and James's parents usually sent a little something, but James often received a rather sizeable pile of gifts and he didn't want it to feel like he was rubbing it in.

There was a change to the rhythm of the silence and James was snapped from his thoughts. Sirius's breathing had suddenly become erratic, like he was fighting something back, or on the edge of something unpleasant. Without thinking, James moved his hand, finding a warm arm beneath the covers and he gripped it gently. The breathing steadied almost immediately. Sirius sniffed in the darkness.

Yes, he was away from his family, in a new and much warmer home now. It just may take some time, James realised, to convince him of that.

* * *

**AN** - Thanks for reading! And thanks to _PhoenixFireHope, RodeoTown _and the _Guest_ for the reviews on the last chapter! I say it all the time but I really do appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think.

Love you all, and please continue to review!


	13. A Warmer Winter

**Year of the Wolf**

_12. A Warmer Winter_

Someone pushed against him, shaking him roughly.

'Wake up!'

Sirius groaned and curled into himself. It was too early, he just wanted to sleep.

'Sirius, wake up!'

Maybe if he said nothing, maybe if he just lay there, they'd give up and leave him alone.

'Come on!'

'Go away, Reg,' he groaned into his pillow. 'Get out of my room.'

'Padfoot!' The voice was suddenly harsh and had a definite tone of impatience to it. What's more, Regulus never called him by that name.

Sirius opened his eyes, and his memory righted itself. Of course, he was at the Potters', and had been since the evening of December Twenty-Third. He recognised this large and light room, with its many Puddlemere United posters and Gryffindor banners.

Yes, he lived here now. It was strange how he was still inclined to forget that, to feel that he was just visiting.

The light that shone beneath the curtains was that of a still-rising sun. Just how early was it?

'It's Christmas!' James reminded him.

He shot upright, and James grinned.

'That's more like it! Now come on! But we have to be quiet!'

Sirius was so used to spending Christmas with his family, and so felt no latent excitement for the day, but James's holiday joy had been so contagious that he had even found himself singing a few carols the previous night.

James held a finger to his lips as they crept off the bed, across the room and onto the landing, making as little noise as possible. This wasn't so difficult, what with the covering tune of morning birdsong. The soft carpet muffled the sound of their footsteps and even the stairs didn't creak. Downstairs, the old clock in the hallway ticked loudly, and blocks of light printed patterns against the floor.

Sirius had never spent a Christmas in the countryside. Though his old house had been in a largely residential area of London there was still rarely birdsong to greet him when he woke and the ambient sound of the street was footfall and chatter. Indeed, he was not used to rabbits and the occasional fox in the back garden. And one certainly never expected to see a gnome pressing its little lumpy face against the glass when they drew back the living room curtains.

'How do they get up there?' Sirius asked.

'I think they climb up the plants,' James said as he lowered himself to the gnome's eye level and stuck out his tongue - an action which the gnome, looking rather funny with a hat of fresh snow, mirrored. 'They're fun.'

There was a rather impressive pile of presents beneath the Christmas tree, but James ignored it and dragged him instead into the kitchen.

The smell was incredible. An aroma so sweet that Sirius felt his stomach ache in longing. There, on the bench, was the most mouth-watering cake he had ever seen. And it was so intricately decorated that it almost seemed a shame to eat it. Almost.

James looked at it with that same glint in his eye that Lily Evans often provoked, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

'What is that?' Sirius asked. He didn't really care, only knew that he may not survive the sweet rush of sugar and flavour when it touched his lips.

'Mum's Christmas cake,' James said in an almost whining voice of longing. 'She makes it every year, but she always decorates it differently.' This year, it appeared to be themed around the house, with a tiny little marzipan cottage surrounded by sugary, snow-topped trees. 'You have no idea what you're in for. Cake will never taste the same again.'

He reached very carefully for one of the leaves that ran round the base of the cake.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

He pulled his hand back sharply, as though bitten, and turned sheepishly to his father, who stood at the end of the kitchen, leaning casually against the fridge.

'I didn't know you were up,' James said guiltily. Sirius tried to look as innocent as possible, as though he had been dragged into this against his will.

'Fifteen years, Jim,' Mr. Potter laughed. 'Fifteen years we've had you; I know your tricks by now. Invented some of them myself, actually.'

A soft thud against the kitchen window distracted them and they turned in time to see a pair of tiny hands scrabbling against the glass, before a softer thud and what sounded like muffled cursing followed.

'Ah!' cried James, and Sirius turned back to him to see him sucking on his finger, a full foot back from where he had previously been standing - evidently he had used the gnome's distraction to attempt to steal some icing.

Mr. Potter just laughed and ruffled his son's hair.

'She's got you all figured out too,' he told him. 'Didn't think she'd leave it out in the open, did you? I did warn you.'

'That's a rotten trick,' James fumed as Sirius laughed too.

'I'll go get her,' Mr. Potter said. 'She's probably awake now, we can open presents before you lose all your fingers.'

James inspected his perfectly unharmed finger and scowled at the cake as they left.

Sirius felt rather uncomfortable. The Potters had made him feel incredibly welcome in their home and in their family, but he wasn't sure that he was ready to watch a happy family Christmas play out in front of him. But he still put on a smile as Mr. Potter returned with his wife and they all settled down in front of the tree once the radio was on and the air was filled with Christmas cheer.

James didn't even wait to be told before he reached for his first present and tore into it, letting the paper fall in shreds around him. It was a new set of Quidditch robes from a family friend, and they looked rather expensive indeed. He was holding them up and grinning when Mrs. Potter spoke.

'You next, Sirius,' she said, and gestured, smiling, to the pile. Sirius just stared at her like she'd spoken Mermish or something.

When he didn't move, James sighed and deposited a neatly wrapped parcel into his hands.

He had presents?

When he looked towards the pile from which James had plucked it, he saw that there were quite a few with his name on them.

'You didn't think I was going to let you have a crap Christmas, did you?' James asked, nudging him with his elbow.

'He wrote to everyone the night you arrived,' Mrs. Potter explained proudly, and James turned a light shade of pink. Sirius felt like he could hug James right then, but there was the slight issue of the present in his hands.

_Hang in there!_ read the label in a familiar neat script. It was signed _Moony_.

In his attempt to open the gift, he made James's carnage look rather civilised. Inside, he found a muggle model kit of a beastly black Harley Davidson, and he was only able to resist the urge to rip it open by James's reminder that there were more.

Together, with the occasional opening by one of the adults, they worked through the pile of presents. There was a big box of sweets from Wormtail, a broomstick care kit from Andromeda and Ted, and he almost lost himself in excitement when he ripped open James's gift to find a leather jacket that was very much his style. There was even a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and it wasn't their usual home-made cakes. Instead, it was a home-made scarf in Gryffindor colours with a matching hat. His parents would have hated them. He loved it.

Eventually there was one gift remaining for him, though James still had many left. And it wasn't a gift, really, it was an envelope. Intrigued, he reached for it and turned it over in his hands, finding his name and James's address printed neatly on the front. When he turned it over again, a chill ran through his veins.

'Don't open it!' James said, though he made no attempt to stop him.

The wax seal upon the back was imprinted with the Black Family crest. He had not expected anything from them, and a letter would hardly hold anything pleasant. But it did feel as though there was something inside, so he swallowed the unpleasant taste in his mouth and slid his thumb beneath the flap, breaking it open.

_Sirius,_

_I hope that this letter finds you, and finds you well._

_I am unsure how you will take this news, but I felt that you ought to know; Walburga removed your name from the family tree yesterday, in front of the family. Whatever transpired, whatever drove you away, I hope you find comfort in the fact that it is all over, they will not be coming after you, you are free to live whatever life you choose._

_You are old enough and strong enough to take care of yourself, I know that, and I feel confident enough to say that the family has lost a lot more than you have through these events. You will, I think, fare far better without them and I am truly sorry that it came to this._

_Please find attached my Christmas present to you - I took my leave for the afternoon yesterday to sort it all out. It is a key, to Gringotts vault number seven hundred and eleven - your new vault. It did not please me to think of you out there on your own with no money behind you, so I have furnished it with a little something to help you through the remainder of the school year. If you need any more, please do not hesitate to contact me; I am an old man sitting on a small fortune that is simply gathering dust._

_If this letter has found you on Christmas Day, that means that you have done as I guessed and sought out the Potters. If this is the case, please extend my gratitude towards them for taking in my favourite nephew and wish them a very happy Christmas from me._

_Take care of yourself,  
Alphard_

It was not cold, but his fingers were numb. Numb enough that James was able to take the letter from his hands and silently seek permission to read it. He did, and he read it aloud, his voice fading into the background as Sirius stood to walk into the kitchen.

Even the smell of the cake did not break through the haze. He knew that it was coming, knew that his name would not be on that tapestry into the new year. But there was something so real about reading it like that, about imagining the entire family standing around the family tree silent and approving as his mother raised her wand to his name. A final act of severance.

'Padfoot.'

James jumped when Sirius threw his arms around him, laughing like he hadn't laughed in days. He seemed startled still when Sirius pushed him back, hands on his shoulders, and grinned.

'I'm free,' he said. It was a wonderful feeling, like a big heavy door had closed on that chapter of his life, on the Blacks and Grimmauld Place. Suddenly, he did not feel so reluctant to enjoy himself or get comfortable in this new environment. He had closed the door on them and they had locked it.

This was turning out to be a very merry Christmas indeed.

* * *

The holidays turned very fun very quickly without the weight of the unknown hanging over him. Sirius had unpacked his belongings into the spare room next to James's, which the Potters promised to get a proper name plaque for in time for the summer, though he still slept in James's room (often simply falling asleep as they tried to stay awake together). James's parents had bought him a Nimbus One Thousand and One for Christmas, and though Sirius's was still at school he rode James's old One Thousand and they flew around the garden pelting one another with snowballs until Mrs. Potter yelled at them about their carelessness in the temperature.

The maple grove, they found, was a lot of fun for their animal counterparts, though James found the frozen ground a lot more tolerable than Sirius did. James talked about how beautiful the grove was in autumn, comparing the colour of the leaves to a certain female Gryffindor student's hair and lamenting that he hadn't seen autumn at The Grove first-hand since he started Hogwarts.

New Year came around and the Lupins and Pettigrews spent the night. The boys played hide and seek in the grove, and Peter won by transforming into a rat - an act that proved rather useful until he ran across an over-excited gnome and was forced to change back. They even managed to talk Peter onto a broom and ended the night by staring up at the moon, all acknowledging how differently they looked at it these days. Until their lazing about on the frozen grass was interrupted again.

'Dad, we have to do something about these gnomes!' James had fumed. Sirius had the suspicion that it was the same mischievous one, but didn't dare suggest this, lest they all end up on some gnome-hunting quest.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, and Mrs. Pettigrew, enquired as to how he was getting on at The Grove, and Sirius realised that he had forgotten for a moment just how he had ended up there. So he was honest, and told them that he was having the time of his life, that he had new parents and a new brother that were a definite upgrade from the last. Mrs. Potter tearfully excused herself at this, and Mr. Potter patted him on the shoulder in a rather fatherly way.

They visited Diagon Alley shortly before the end of the holidays, mostly for Sirius to check just how much gold Alphard had given him. It was a modest amount, and he was careful to leave some there for the summer, but Mrs. Potter had sighed and helped him scoop it all into his coin bag, telling him that they were buying his school things and ensuring that he had an enjoyable summer, so he should just take it all to spend in Hogsmeade.

James insisted on finding something for Lily's upcoming birthday, and he settled on a necklace that matched the green of her eyes. They ran into Mary Macdonald in the afternoon, emerging from Gringotts having changed all her Muggle Christmas money into wizarding coins, and she excitedly told them about her Christmas and how she and her parents were going to visit family abroad in the summer. They saw many people they recognised that day, and Sirius even saw a few members of his extended family, including Augusta Longbottom, who was chatting animatedly to a friend about her son's burgeoning career, and Molly Weasley with her two young sons.

They even, to Sirius's great delight, ran into his cousin Andromeda with her husband and their daughter as they were on their way for food, and the two families sat and ate together. Though they corresponded often, Sirius had not seen or spoken to her since she had married Ted and subsequently been disowned. Mostly, she expressed her astonishment at how grown up he was, and Ted asked how Quidditch was going. Little Nymphadora just sat there and threw bits of her dinner at James when he wasn't looking.

It was a little sad when they were forced to say goodbye, but they promised to keep in touch as always. And it was on the trip back to Hampshire that Sirius realised that there was a small part of him that was just the slightest bit unhappy about returning to Hogwarts. Because home life was so much better now, and the relief from the stress of the O.W.L.s was very much welcomed.

They woke early on the day of departure and both boys were still yawning as they slumped down the stairs with their bags after breakfast.

'Are we ready?' asked Mrs. Potter, fussing over them at the door. 'Got everything you need? Got your wands? Got your broom, James? Okay, let's go.'

They had a car purely for the school run, and Sirius had his nose pressed to the window for most of the journey. He could probably count on one hand the amount of times he had been in a car - they had usually just walked from Grimmauld Place. It was kind of a novelty to watch fields and houses and small towns flit past. It was so very _Muggle_, and it filled him with even more excitement over the impending purchase of his motorbike. Of course, now that he wasn't going to inherit any of the Black fortune, he may have to wait a while for that.

James and Sirius walked through the barrier at King's Cross together, Mr. and Mrs. Potter following close behind. The platform wasn't quite as busy as it was at the start of term and there were far less animals and school trunks so it was a lot easier to move. It didn't take long for the Lupins and Mrs. Pettigrew to spot them and lead their sons over.

It really wasn't until he saw his friends that he felt a sense of trepidation. He had barely thought about his relatives lately, but they would be there, and chances were good that their paths would cross. Perhaps that was why Mrs. Potter stood with an arm around him protectively as she chatted to Hope Lupin, and why the others were unusually quiet.

'Five minutes to go, boys,' said Lyall Lupin. 'Better get yourselves on the train.'

The arm around Sirius pulled him into a hug, the free one reaching for James. It was such an uncomfortable predicament that Sirius burst out laughing.

'Be good, both of you,' Mrs. Potter warned with a hand on each boy's cheek, but Sirius could not stop smirking. 'And I will see you in the summer.'

James ducked rather deftly as she moved to kiss him and he slid away laughing, apparently convinced that he had dodged her. But she grabbed the end of his scarf and pulled him back amidst fervent complaints with a devilish smile on her face. Sirius was too busy laughing to dodge his, and James began laughing openly and far too dramatically in his face. Sirius simply pulled his lips into a pucker and stretched out his arms towards him - that shut him up quickly.

'Are you sure you don't want to come home for Easter?' Mrs. Pettigrew asked her son.

Peter shook his head.

'Too much homework,' he said.

With goodbyes all said and done, they turned to survey the platform; Sirius could hear Remus calculating the quickest way to get on the train beneath his breath. But he saw them, and James saw them too; there was no way they would be able to get onto the train without passing them. And he was just a little bit angry that they seemed perfectly normal, and not the least bit torn up or in fact showing any sign that they had recently lost a son.

Perhaps Remus mistook his tremors for fear, because he put an arm around him and stared determinedly ahead, and James followed suit. Peter could not reach, so settled for a hand on Remus's back.

'Shall we do this, gents?' asked James.

'Let's do it right,' said Remus.

'We've got this,' chimed Peter.

Sirius felt his heart swell with affection for his friends, and when they took their first step forward he found that his mind was far from that couple and their departing son.

They were perhaps a foot away when Remus pulled suddenly on him and his knees buckled. It took all of his balance and upper body strength to keep himself upright and to grab Remus so that he too didn't fall. Peter, however, was another story; he seemed to be in the grips of a Dancing Leg Curse for a few seconds before he righted himself with a red face and a muttered apology.

People nearby had begun to stare and Sirius felt a horrible prickling at the back of his neck that told him his parents were too.

He laughed. Couldn't stop himself, really. There they were, trying to be all strong and march onward in solidarity, and Peter had tripped over his own effing feet and nearly brought them all down. Remus smirked, trying to hold back, but he too found it just too funny; Sirius could feel James's head against his back, his hands on his shoulders. Not a single one of them could breathe as Peter joined in, and when Sirius looked up and, through tears of mirth, saw the sour-lemon expression on Walburga Black's face, he knew that it was over, and it was only with James's help that he was able to make it onto the train, clutching the stitch in his side.

'Did you see her?' James wheezed when they were on-board, falling across the seats of their compartment.

'Pete. Pete. Worm-' Sirius just couldn't catch his breath, but he managed to find Peter, managed to slap him on the shoulder as a way of saying 'mate, that was brilliant'. And Peter looked rather proud of himself, as embarrassing as his accident had been.

It was just so _them_, so _Sirius_, and it was so inelegant and just a little uncouth; it was everything his parents had hated about him, and it had all happened barely two feet from them. He couldn't have asked for a better send off, couldn't have asked for a better way to raise the finger to them and say 'I'm okay without you, better even'.

The year ahead seemed like a much brighter one indeed.

* * *

**AN** - Thanks for reading! And thanks a hundred times over to the _Guest, RodeoTown, PhoenixFireHope, redheadleela_ and _Buttermilch_ for reviewing the last chapter :). If you enjoy what you have read, let me know and I shall keep it coming!  
I was tempted to end it here because it was a rather comfortable place to tie things off, but there was so much more I wanted to cover in this story so it is not over yet! There's still another term to go :) As always, please review and I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter!


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